It’s August already, and where did the summer go? I thought surely that the days would drag, and that I would have time to accomplish a million and one things before we had to make our next move – and what do you know? Here I am, two whole days before we move to a new city, and there’s so much not done. Our lives suddenly went from slow-moving to action and chaos. It’s stressful and exciting and overwhelming, but I’m breathing a sigh of relief.
Joe has a new job that he’s crazy excited about.
I get to live in a big city (although not one that was ever on my radar).
We have a place to live and family to help us move.
There’s a lot to look forward to, and that’s largely what I’ve been focusing on these past weeks. But when I let myself slow down for a minute, I am sad about what we’ll be leaving behind. It took me a long time to like Charlottesville, mostly because it represented everything that was hard about my life when we moved – being a newlywed, not having a support system, disliking my job, questioning a life plan I thought was set in place. Slowly but surely, Charlottesville’s charm snuck up on me, and now I’m full out in love with this place. I almost wanted to cry as we were driving back from Baltimore last week and literally as soon as we crossed the state line back into Virginia, the rolling hills and farms and mountains appeared, so beautiful and open, so different from the large harbor city we’re about to take on. I’m going to miss Saturday’s at the farmer’s market, and showing visitors just how darn cute my little town is. Except in two days, this town won’t be mine anymore, and I’ll be off on a new adventure.
And now I’m getting stupidly nostalgic over the silliest things – sob, this is the last time I’ll ever run the dishwasher in our first apartment as a married couple, boo hoo! When really I should be packing. And cleaning. And packing.