Wasn’t there a rug here a minute ago?

We just moved to this city, and by “just moved” I mean that in a month, we will have been here for a year. I’m just starting to warm up to the area and feel that now, finally, we have a better understanding of the different parts of town and could search for a better location for an apartment, perhaps one that doesn’t have us sandwiched between chain-smoking tenants with holes in their ceilings and floors. I’m getting a feel for the advantages and opportunities of the city. I’ve made some very good friends in the knitting and spinning community. We’ve even found a group to play RPGs with.

Naturally, the very reason we moved here, Nyte’s job, is going into a state of flux. Now we’re not necessarily looking at an in-town move when our lease runs out. Now I need to plan for other alternatives, and the possibility that I might be spending another month or so as a single mom during the week while Nyte works in another city and I pack up our life while caring for the kids. I did it with one kid a year ago, and I didn’t much like it. You can imagine how excited I am to be looking forward to that again, with the ante sufficiently upped. Granted, it would be for a good financial reason. We could use quite a few good financial reasons, goodness knows.

Unfortunately, unlike Nyte, I do not thrive on chaos. When I take the alignment test, I come out as a solid Lawful Neutral. I like things to be where I put them. I like to be able to tell anyone who asks where anything is at any given time. I like my stuff.

Nyte, on the other hand, is clearly in the Chaotic Good category. New situations interest him. He thrives on the challenge of mastering the unexpected. His reverse kleptomania means that he never knows where anything is, because he has no sense of where things belong. He knows where he might have put something, but there is absolutely no guarantee that whatever he’s looking for will actually be where he thinks it is. He’s excited about the potential for change. He’s probably more excited right now than he has been for months, ever since things at his job started to show signs of being tenuous.

I don’t like to think of myself as set in my ways, or a fuddy-duddy of any sort, but…I don’t like change. It’s hard. The adjustment hurts. I have to figure out where everything goes again, and that takes a lot of energy. Not to mention, between the two of us we have about eight kajillion books, and have you ever carried that many books up and down a few flights of stairs? Misery. All the epsom salts in the world can’t help you recover from that crap; it takes weeks even if you happen to have a Jedi Master of a masseuse on-call.

Don’t get me wrong – I love variety. I get bored as much as the next person, and possibly faster and easier than most people. I wouldn’t say I’m flighty, but it’s easy to get in a rut, so I do like to change things up now and then. I’ll try a different kind of tea, or brand of coffee, or flavor of creamer, or hair shampoo at the drop of a hat. I’ll throw a new lip product in the grocery cart every time I go to the store if it’s in the budget, but let’s be clear; that isn’t change, that’s variety.

I haven’t figured out how to be excited about the prospect of looking for a new apartment in a distant city. I’m trying hard not to rain on Nyte’s parade just because I’ll be inconvenienced, trying hard to remember that he’ll be awfully inconvenienced too, and he’ll be doing all the heavy lifting to boot. But, he won’t be leaving behind a whole slew of kind, generous, warm-hearted people who share my love for the fiber arts.

I think I’m going to take the rest of the evening off, as much as that is possible. I’m going to crochet some more rounds for a baby blanket for my brother’s unborn baby, eat strawberry-filled dark chocolate truffles, and drink myself silly on some oolong tea. I’m going to try not to stress about it, even though my brain is already trying to Tetris all our belongings into boxes according to need. When the time comes I will pack like a crazy person and only stop to prevent box avalanches or when I collapse, but that time isn’t here yet.

Everything in its season.


About crankyfacedknitter

We are a motley collection of cats, cranks, nerds, geeks, hobbyists, humorists, writers, caffeine addicts and one knitter. We have many offspring, but admittedly, most of them are imaginary.
This entry was posted in Navel gazing, OH NOES, Whinging. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Wasn’t there a rug here a minute ago?

  1. katkoe says:

    well crappers chicy. *hugs* having moved 3 times in 2 years prior to our current spot I feel your pain. best of luck.

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