Packing Joys (?!)

I don't want to pack.

This always happens to me. Whenever I go on a long (or long-ish) trip, I get out my suitcases early and start to assemble the necessities I will take along with me. But I give up after a few minutes and then I have stuff all over my room, inhibiting me from doing whatever I'm supposed to do in there...like sleep.

Well, since I'm moving on Monday I thought I'd get an early-ish start at packing up my belongings this week but the same thing has happened, only on a larger scale.

So in an attempt to ward off the packing/moving blahs, I've compiled a small list of the benefits of moving. Hopefully this will help keep me thinking positively.

• It's a chance to rediscover hidden treasures. Any pack rat will know what I'm talking about - all those things that were so important when you recieved them and got placed somewhere and forgotten about. The thing is that I enjoy finding them so much that I want to stash them away again in order to have that joy next time I move. This kind of screws up the second point:
• It's a great opportunity to purge. How often do we really go through our closets and storage spaces and get rid of the things we don't use or need? Not often enough, I say. But although I would love to live in a house where everything I owned was something I actually used, I very rarely go through and purge.
  
• Moving from one place means moving to another. I love change and the adventure that comes along with it. I realize that while it's sad to leave an environment filled with memories, that going to a new one provides the opportunity to create new ones. This move signifies the beginning of the biggest adventure I've ever been on. How fun.
  
• Packing is a process with very tangeable, visual results. I love washing dishes because I can see the immediate positive consequences of my labour. Packing can be the same way. Closed up boxes, empty shelves an bare walls give me a feeling of satisfaction.
  
• It's a great workout. Boxes and furniture have to be moved from this basement apartment to the van and then from the van to the 4th floor apartment I'm moving into. That's more exercise than I get in a normal week. I think I may have to forgo rollerblading that day.
  
• It gives Darren a chance to make me feel loved. We learned at the marriage course that we're both multilingual when it comes to love languages, but one of the key ways in which I feel love is when someone does something nice for me (kind actions). Helping me sort, pack, carry...it's all kind actions to me. (It doesn't matter that he get just as much benefit out of this move as I do.)

Ok, hopefully that will help - tomorrow, when I get back at it.

Not a good time to be sick

I came home from work early today because I wasn't feeling good. On Sunday afternoon when I started losing my voice Chrissy attributed it to all the "Awww...that's beautiful!" I was saying at the shower (pictures pending). However, that raspy voice turned into a feel-aweful-kind-of-cold.

I don't really mind being sick. In fact, this would be a great semester to have gotten a cold or two because my benefits have just kicked in and I do have sick days now.

But it's a terrible time to get sick because this is the final week of classes for the semseter. Before the promotions meetings (sometimes called pass/fail meetings where we discuss which of our students move on to the next level and which do not) on Friday at noon, I have to have calculated final grades for each of my students, including tallying the final exams which are also happening this week.

Besides that, I'm moving on Monday. Consequently, this apartment has to be packed up before that. I think I was in denial about how much work that really is. Thankfully we don't have to move Darren's stuff for another 2 weeks.

And thirdly, Darren and I are going to Forest on Sunday to my parents' church because they're having a small luncheon in our honour. It's a nice gesture, but a long way to go on such a busy weekend.

And of course there's the ongoing wedding stuff, like the final meeting with our caterer tonight which I sent Darren to alone (sorry, baby!) and "Operation Get-rid-of-the-remaining-evidence-of-last-summer's-
sunburn-that-changed-my-life."

I'm done complaining, now. Actually, this is more of a personal to-do list than a complaint session (at least in my mind.) And I'm not really worried about anything; it'll all get done...but at a slower pace now that I have to take frequent 20 second coughing breaks.

Just to prove that I'm not in a completely negative state of mind, here are a couple good things about today:

One good thing: my landlord rescheduled the appointments he had set up for potential renters to view my apartment. I don't think a half-dazed girl in the bedroom would have helped sell this place.

Another: I took apart the gorgeous floral arrangement that Jacquie made for my shower today because I don't have a good place to display such a large work of art. But now I have beautiful flowers all over my apartment, which makes me so happy. My favourite is the pitcher of small lily-like flowers (astramaris?) by my phone. (But I also love the mum-related boquet on the toilet.) Wanna see?





Oh, and the ring fits. Now we wait to find out what happens in the summer.

The consequence of listening to experts

Every decision has a consequence. Unfortunately, a disproportionate number of those consequences are negative. Perhaps that's why I hate decision making so much.

I'm thinking of one incident in particular:

Last weekend Darren, Chuck and I went to Toronto to visit the boys' friend, Erika. On the way we stopped at Spence to look at the wedding band that matches my engagement ring. While there two things happened: (1) we purchased a ring for me and (2) the sales lady convinced me that my ring - which I have been wearing without incident since November - was 1/2 a size too big. We ended up leaving there with less money and no rings because one was being ordered and the other shipped away for sizing.

Now this woman (who is much more of an expert in ring sizing than I am) is probably right. The ring has always had a lot of freedom to move around on my finger. However, I thought that was how rings were supposed to fit, so I didn't consider the fact that it might, indeed be too big.

But there's one thing that this sales lady doesn't know: my fingers get fat in the summer. It doesn't even have to be summer; as soon as it gets warm, my long, lean fingers turn into long, fat sausages. In fact, I used to gauge my internal body temperature by how many times I had to switch my rings to smaller fingers.

I did mention this fact to the woman at Spence but somehow she got me to leave my ring there to be made smaller. But as soon as we left the store I was afraid that I had made the wrong decision and that whenever the weather got above freezing I'd have to walk around looking "unattached."

Of course, on Saturday when we go and pick up the ring we may discover that all my worrying was a waste of energy. So I guess I don't really believe that most consequences are negative. It's that I fear that most consequences are negative. What I need to do is decide that my decision, once I've deliberated over it and finally, painstakingly made it, is the right one and put it out of my mind.

Hmmm...I wonder how many more decisions I'll have to fret over before I learn to do this.

The equation for a good weekend

Both Darren and I commented today just how great a weekend this past one was. Here's the interesting thing, though: we didn't do anything extra special or completely out of the ordinary.

The schedule included a Casino party (no money exchanged) for our ESL students, a bit of standard driving, the watching of a movie, a dinner out, registering at Walmart, a church worship service, lunch with Darren's family, the buying of Darren's wedding band, the booking of our honeymoon, a little zuma-action (of course!) and the sixth installment of our marriage course.

We didn't get re-acquainted with any long-lost friends or visit any new, fascinating places. We didn't complete any major projects or beat any world records. We didn't take up a new sport or solve any world issues. But it was a wonderful weekend.

I think, at least for me, the definition of a great "down time" is one which has a healthy balance of productivity and relaxation. It's easy and natural to do nothing (by "nothing" I mean lay around watching TV, reading a book and eating) when we're not required to be somewhere or produce something. Many a reading week or Christmas vacation is "wasted" by such activities that we think will help re-energize us for when "real life" starts again.

But whenever I have days like that I always find myself more tired and drained than when I began. Part of it could simply be the drained sensation that comes with guilt of having been so lazy.

So now I think that the body requires a bit of activity and pro-activity in order to be healthy and to truly relax. It's funny: I don't feel particularly tired at the end of this weekend even though we lost an hour. I think it's because Darren and I took the time to do "nothing" (I'd definitely consider watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind doing nothing) in between taking care of some important things (making significant and vital purchases for our upcoming festivities) and enjoying the company of others in a fun environment (without losing a cent on blackjack).

Well, at least that's my latest theory.