We didn't bring much with us, or so I thought. Just a fraction of what we own, just a small amount of plates/glasses, small kitchen appliances and mostly just clothing, food and work /school related stuff. One very small box of DVD's that was never unpacked. But somehow, I am exhausted packing this time. Maybe it's the amazing rainy weather. We are grateful for the rain in this drought, even if it slows us down and makes this even more difficult.
When we pull the big borrowed vehicle with the trailer in, it will be through mud, at both locations. We are looking at our storage unit knowing we have to re-arrange to get all of this in. Very little can with us this time. Clothes, and computers/schoolwork, and Aaron's work gear. Even that sounds like a lot for one bedroom. It is.
Maybe that's why God had me so interested in small houses, tiny houses, and all that. Less stuff, more living.
But in the mean time, we just need to get what we have left here packed up and moved out and put away.
My brain knows it, but my emotions and my body are in rebellion.
I am exhausted.
I am fighting, fighting being bitter that our "gentlemen's agreement" has been broken. I understand the weird circumstances, but it was broken just the same. I am fighting to not take on an attitude of "can't trust anyone", fighting to keep my head above water and not just sit and cry or pull the covers over my head and not come out. I'd rather make a blanket fort and eat popcorn and watch movies. I'd rather color in a coloring book and chat with long time friends. I'd rather do many, many other things than pack these boxes, again, and move, again. But I will do it, and I will fight it all off.