I should be packing or shredding

Well, the move is finally ON. After a 3 day snow-delay due to blizzards in New England, tomorrow is THE day. I am surrounded with boxes and detritus -- scraps of this and that are everywhere. What can be boxed, pretty much is boxed. Some things I am leaving for the movers to pack. I am just that finished. I should be sitting dutifully at my shredder, but NO..I am bushed. I will pack "things to be shredded" and move them. And there are a ton of things in that category. I'm talking checks from 1982. That is the worst I've found so far anyway.

I am so tired of sorting, choosing, deciding. I just want this over. But then there is the unpacking to look forward to --- somehow that doesn't seem as arduous, as it at least puts me at HOME.

Wow -- HOME -- my own home. I keep getting all verklempt. I knew it would feel special. I didn't know it would feel so deeply special.

I suddenly feel my life to this point had serious periods of exile in it -- and I didn't even know it. Could it be that I was wandering in a desert without realizing it? It had become so familiar....

I now crave the stuff of place-attachment. I want to own a bird-feeder. I want a big old goofy pooch. I want to plant a tree or two or three. I want my name on an outside mailbox.

And in about 36 hours....that is where I will be.

Holy cats.