"The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer,
the top of the live-long year,
like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning."
--Katherine Paterson
I like that quote very much. Except, well, this is what the first week of August looks like at our house:
Not so top-of-the-ferris-wheel feeling, I assure you, but definitely cathartic, frazzling, and good. We are on day 2 of a 5-day pack and load process. In a severe test of my organizational abilities, all of our household goods had to be sorted into six sections: things going into storage, things going in the air shipment, things going in the sea shipment, things going with L to her apartment, things going with us in our suitcases for the next month, and a whole load of things we don't want anymore. We have alternated between resembling an episode of Hoarders and an episode of Storage Wars. (Please, come buy the junky contents of my garage right now! I'll give you everything for $1.)
And guess what? We have a signed purchase and sale agreement on our house, scheduled to close at the end of August. We're very grateful for the timing and the way things worked out. Whew.
Here's one thing I've been wondering: what happened to my fight-or-flight response? Because I'm pretty sure that when I'm stressed I don't tend to want to fight through or high tail it & run away. I just want to curl up in a nice little fetal ball and have a nap. Apparently adrenaline is a sedative for me? That can't be evolutionarily wise, right? Fight, flight, or...fizzle?
Lots to catch up on! More soon.
