Here’s a news flash. I’m moving. Talk about challenges during a pandemic. Somehow I managed to review, tour, select, and sign for a new apartment without leaving the confines of my confining current compartment. Trust me, if it was up to me I would stay here forever but it’s my roommates, Myself and I, who are jonesing for new Joneses to keep up with.
You might remember for older posts that I spent 30 years in a sprawling, way too big on many levels (metaphorically and literally) for one person suburban house with the requisite yard, gardens and outside spaces. Five years ago I “downsized” into my now soon to be abandoned first attempt at retirement living. Not retirement living community, just retirement living.
I did pretty well with the first wave of downsizing, paring away about 3/4 of my accumulated possessions. After 5 years I’ve found that I’ve re-accumulated and am on the verge of “upsizing.” But it’s not for the newfound additional space I am pulling the plug on the present penthouse. That’s a tale for another day.
Today’s tale starts four weeks before I hit the drop dead date on renewing the current lease. Oh, how was I supposed to know there would be a global pandemic so close to my renewal date? Because I had resolved to drop dead before I would renew I had 4 weeks to find new lodging. Unfortunately that coincided exactly with the eve of the world shutting down. Oy! Or is that Oi? Whichever, it was a challenge. But I met the challenge and 4 weeks later I was not committing to a renewal.
That was 30 days ago and I have 30 days to go. I have discovered that the challenge of finding a place while the world is isolated ain’t nothing compared to packing in isolation. To call this controlled chaos would be generous. Out of control pandemonium is not quite there either but it is closer.
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First, there’s just me here! Me and hundreds of flattened boxes that need reconstructed, rolls of tape in a holder/dispenser designed by a mechanical engineer who was last in his class, pieces of bubble wrap in a variety of shapes and sizes saved from the previous move and various package deliveries over the past 5 years, and felt tip marking pens that keep disappearing. No matter how carefully I wrap and place items into an expertly reconstructed cardboard box there’s always a corner too small for the last item my mind believes should fit there and too large for anything I do find to put there leaving still an empty corner just even smaller than that last item my mind still believes belongs there and nowhere else. In the process of filling that box I’ve reconstructed another box (expertly, of course) with just one item in it, the one my mind is still certain belonged in that empty corner of the first box. It was easier the last time I moved.
The last time I moved I was convalescing in a recliner while I wrapped a glass or two and directed the relatives doing the heavy lifting, err packing. The time before that was 30 years previous and there were professionals involved. Hmm, I just realized this might not be the cause of the virus and the Governor’s quarantine order. I might just not be good at packing. Oh my.
I’ll try to keep you up to date on my progress. As long as I can keep a computer or tablet out of a reconstructed cardboard box (expertly).
Business trips weren’t less painful. The last few years of work I traveled a lot to other hospitals to do operational reviews. These would take me one or two days each and I usually did 2 or 3 hospitals at a time so I was mostly gone for 4 or 5 days. Because these places could be located almost anywhere in the country and there are only 3 airports in the world that have direct flights between them, business travel meant more time in and between airports than at productive work. Somehow I managed to get a week’s worth of shirts and ties, laptop and files, and the requisite book, phone and flight snack crammed into one approved sized carry-on. Heavy, but within the limits of the underseat and overhead compartment areas.
The Real Reality Show Blog 