PAIN, SWEAT AND
PACKING
Oh you didn’t
know that those three words are synonymous? Well, they are; I know this for a
fact…
Sometime this summer I came to a crossroad in my life. I had interviewed for two jobs; one in Massachusetts and one in Clayton County, GA. Despite the lack of confidence in myself and the unyielding doom that had been hovering over me for the past year and a half, I was offered both jobs. Now what was I to do? I had to weigh the pros and cons. The Clayton county job was teaching gifted students, in a school that was over flowing with technology, a higher salary, and opportunities for leadership. It seemed like a perfect fit. The job in Massachusetts would get me out of the classroom, offered a higher hourly salary, and I could use my degree but in a completely innovative and atypical way. This job was different and offered a challenge. But it also would mean I would have to move to Massachusetts. Moving to MA would mean I would be surrounded by family and I would not be alone anymore. Moving to MA would mean I would have to sell my house, and inevitably lose money on it. Moving to MA would mean that would not be teaching. Moving to MA would mean I would have to pack up my whole house. Moving to MA would mean that I would be around family for the holidays. Taking the MA job would mean I would lose health insurance for 3 months…After much prayer and contemplation I irrevocably came to the supposition that I NEEDED to be around my family. I needed a change. I needed a new start. This decision did not come without anguish….
I chose one of the leading realtors in the county; however, she was not the warm and fuzzy type at all. She insisted on continually illuminating me on the dismal amount of home sales in the past twelve months. As informative as she was, my brain was beginning to gyrate with angst at all the minor yet imperative tasks that needed attention BEFORE she would show my house. How was I going to get all that done in just a few days? She had someone that could assist me, but it was going impede upon my diminishing savings account. I thanked God the day she left on vacation.
4 days before my moving day, I was eagerly sorting through my valued possessions and endlessly packing my belongings, when somehow, some way, a book shelf, with a TV on it, came tumbling and crashing down on top of me. I was proud that I had fortuitously sold my 19 inch older-than-dirt TV on e-bay and I did not want to renege on the transaction. So, when I saw my e-bay ratings fly off the shelf I automatically put my arms out to catch the shelf, the TV, and all its possessions. Needless to say, I consequently ended up jammed under shelf with my arm pinned under the TV, BUT the TV did not smash and shatter like I had envisioned happening. My arm is now black and blue from the middle of my arm to my knuckles, but I still have a 100% positive rating on e-bay!
I always wanted to know the formula for choosing a choosing a moving day. It seems as if each time I have planned to move, I have picked the wrong day. As with this move, the day I picked was defectively chosen yet again. This time I picked the hottest day of the year. Not only was I lifting, carrying and moving with a bruised and battered arm, sweat was dripping into my eyes and fogging up my glasses so that I could not see a thing. My friend Michael came down and helped me make a Salvation Army run and to deliver my furniture to another friend. The heat was unbearable, intolerable and quite agonizing to say the least. The next morning I had to give my uncle, a born and raised Yankee, bless his heart, a sweat towel to sponge the perspiration from his brow. Now he copiously understands the term “Georgia heat.”
Because of the immensity of the heat I resolved to wear shorts on moving day. This is not a customary practice for me. I was not familiar with this piece of clothing and did not realize that the pockets were not very deep when I placed my beloved red, juke cell phone in my back pocket. During one of my much needed heat breaks I went to the bathroom and as I was peeling my shorts off my sticky, sweaty body my cell phone decided it wanted to cool off and proceeded to jump into the cold, sparkling water of the toilet bowl. What my juke did not realize was that electronics and water are not a very compatible. I am now thanking God for insurance.
Complications, inconveniences and nuisances set aside I feel like I made the proper determination at the crossroad that presented itself this summer. I look forward to fighting with my relatives, the challenges of a new occupation, and meeting my future husband (because he obviously does not live in Georgia). With pain, sweat and packing….my new adventure begins.