Except for cooking food for some reason. I’m very skilled at timing all my dishes to come out at the same time – or in the proper time needed.
And I guess I make it look graceful or whatever, but I’m full on swanning it in my brain.
In case you didn’t know, swans are all graceful and glidy on the surface, but their lil legs are working a mile a minute under the water.
(this paragraph break is where I ran off to look for a photo of swans ungraceful underwater legs and then my whole world flipped upside down – because this is a common “fact” that I’ve heard all my life)
Ok, but they do not do this. I was reminded of this “fact” when I saw a quick cutaway clip in a show we were recently watching that I cannot even remember. Since this is something I’d heard before, I took it as gospel and wondered if swans weren’t the original maskers. My brain took this very far before sitting down to write this.
They are not. Swans don’t mask shit, y’all.
I was just fed some propaganda from a TV show. And the rest of my damn life I guess.
I watched some videos of swans and they are very graceful under the water. Legs are graceful, necks are graceful, somehow even the webbed feet are graceful. All underwater.
And above it, but that is public knowledge.
And, honestly, this dishonestly in filmmaking pisses me off a lot. Like, why not take the 5 minutes to do a quick google to see if that “fact” is actually true?!
I took that tiny step for a blog that maybe 30 people will read on a good day. Make the effort to get your facts right, y’all. Or, like, don’t spout them off?!
Ugh, it woulda been a really nice metaphor for what I’m feeling right now, but oh well.
So, we’re at the not-fun part of the move now. The part where everything is unknown and everything else is packed up.
Literally – our house is devoid of everything except a couple suitcases, a TV stand, a smol TV and a blow up mattress. And my weighted blanket. And Mickey’s tube.
And our essential stuffies of course. I whittled it down to five of ’em:
- Travis Snoopy (because he is a seasoned traveller)
- Bedtyme Snoopy (for sleep purposes)
- Danny Brown (because he knows his way around Michigan already)
- Charles the Penguin (he gives the best pep talks and we need pep talks right now)
- Larry the Pool Sloth (I need my pool buddy just in cases)
I also meant to leave Tracy Morban (the Aware Wolf) out, but he got packed away with Colbert in a box so Colbert wouldn’t be alone. (see, Colbert is our biggest stuffie and has really only been in one place his whole life, so we wanted to make sure he had a friend)
Also, as I was writing this blog, I realize we also kept Robert out. He’s the official owner of The Professor House. He’s pretty important to have along with us.
(Yes, my imagination goes this hard all the time)
Ok, so we’re rattling around an empty house and we’re leaving Saturday, bright and early.
Do we have an offer on this house yet? No, but we would like one.
Do we know when our official closing date is yet? No, but we have a tentative one.
Do we have a place to stay when we get up there? No, we do not, but we are working on it.
So these are the main questions I need answered before my brain can move on really.
This week is all about timing for me.
Our house gets listed today and the showings of this empty house and giant pool begin.
Then, hopefully, we get an offer that wants to close all fast and stuff.
Then we will have a date to focus on. Or my brain will at least.
This wasn’t the plan. We planned to leisurely move out and make our way up to Michigan, sell this house and then find one when we’re up there.
But, obviously, we fell in LOVE with the Professor House and needed it to be ours.
I am babbling typing about all these things that aren’t really the biggest worry in my head, because I feel like the worry in my head is slightly silly and I feel dumb for having it.
So I’m talking around it while I get up the guts to confess the silliness I’m all concerned about.
I do this a lot. If you catch me doing it in person, just let me talk my way to where I need to get. If you try to figure it out to “make it easier on me” that won’t work. I’ll shutdown out of embarrassment.
Sometimes, you have to have the patience with me to let me get there when I get there.
And here I am.
I don’t know when to turn off the power to the house we’re currently in. I know I’ll turn in ON in the new place on our closing date, that’s easy.
But do I just shut off the power in this house Friday, when we leave? I think no, because the pool pump still has to run.
Also, when do I shut off the Internet? Where do I take the equipment? I know we’ll be using the same service up in Michigan, so ostensibly, we should be able to just bring the equipment with us.
The water? Does that need to stay live until the new people close on this house?
I am embarrassed about these questions because everyone else just seems to know when to do these things. Like it’s coded into their DNA somehow and I just missed out on that adult update.
I know I will get the answers tomorrow when I suck it up and call everyone, but it’s on my mind and I have a worryspin about it.
Things will work out. I have faith. And support. And love.
When I think of some of the events I’ve pulled off – and all the moving pieces involved, this is a literal blip with minimal players.
And I know we’ll be fine. Great, actually, because we’ll be making the Professor House a Professor Home.
But I’m still real het up about this swan lie, y’all.