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Thursday, October 13, 2016

I've been keeping a secret...

and it's a big one!  

We're moving!!
Everyone supervising the
offloading of the pods.
And this time it is for REAL. You may or may not recall (although why would you NOT recall the mundane details of my past?) that we thought we were moving in 2014, which didn't really pan out. Well, this time we don't have a choice. 
The pods are out front.
Our shit is in boxes.
My work is throwing a goodbye breakfast on Friday.
There is no going back after a goodbye breakfast. 

Aforementioned kitten: #CosetteTheIttyBittyKitty
This should be an interesting month coming up. My husband and I are packing up our dog, our two cats (oh yeah, I also forgot to tell you I got a kitten. I'll make a post about that.) and the Bunny and driving 1300 miles to New Jersey. THEN we get to stay with my dad for a month because our apartment won't be ready yet. In his one bedroom apartment. With another dog. 

It's gonna be SWELL, I am sure.

All joking aside, it is a super exciting time. Moving back to the East Coast is something we've wanted to do for a long time, land locked life is just not for us. And the stuff to do- I cannot wait to spend a good day wandering through the Museum of Natural History (but not the room with the life sized whale.) OHMIGOD and the FOOOOOOOD! (If you live in the vicinity of Ramsey, NJ and have never had Kinchley's Pizza you are fool and a charlatan.)

We just have to survive the next 4 weeks. 

For me that sometimes seems impossible. 

Last Thursday I woke up with my pain level at an 8 in pretty much every joint I own. Like, all of them. I left work an hour earlier that day because I needed to rest so that- guess what!- I could pack shit anyway. Because somehow the RA didn't get the memo. Actually, I think it did get the memo and promptly shredded it up and set it on fire. Such a bitch. 

Of all the situations I've lived through with this disease, moving is probably the WORST. ONE. I would like to introduce into state's evidence Item 1: the amount of energy it takes is INSANE. I, like so many of us, only have so many spoons to use in a day. And if I'm going to work then that takes spoons, which is not optional, then I have to come home and take care of the animals, which takes spoons that are also not optional. THEN I have to pack shit, which takes spoons that are now, no longer optional. So which spoons do I use for things like, working out? Reading? Taking a fucking shower?

Now, let me introduce into state's evidence Item 2: The Stress. With the capitol 's'. And we all know how great stress can be for a chronic illness. It's like RA's version of steroids. It feeds on it. And the more stressed I feel, the more pain I feel. And the closer to a possible flare I get. 

I've been using a Bullet Journal, which for those of you who don't know, is a new trend for people to combine the typical agenda, planner, and personal journal into one book that lets you have a comprehensive view of your days, weeks, and months. Follow the links to find out more, it can be a great way to cope with stressful situations like this. Thank God for this thing, because between the easy organization and the ability to "dump" my thoughts and feelings into one place I can easily look through later. I am OBSESSED. I'll write a post about that all o
n its own.

Anyway, that Bullet Journal is about the only thing saving me. That, and this time I'm actually WITH my husband, which was a huge problem the last time we moved across the country.

But before I continue rambling, I have more packing to do. So sorry for my abscense, things have been sort of crazy, but I will get back to you lovelies with fun stories from the next few weeks, I'm sure!

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