THAT Kind Of Exhaustion

Maybe you know it? That kind where you get ready to move, and you sort and purge and make 40,000 phone calls and stay up late over and over again, especially the night before the movers come (tonight) and you get down to that "Don't look at it! Just throw it in a box!" mentality and you have no earthly idea what it is you just taped inside that cardboard container, (it could be shoes or china cups or clinky bottles of perfume or a stray mongoose or lizard) but you just keep writing "Fragile" on it because YOU are fragile from all the pressure and the hurry and the goodbyes and the excitement and the sadness and the lack of sleep and the muscle aches and the "cricks" in your neck.

That kind. The exhaustion that makes you think that even though your next step after the movers leave is to drive across the country, that little task looks easy in comparison.

This is our last night in our beloved house. We're moving to the Midwest. Closer to our families.

And as last evenings in a house go, this one was superb. Our best friends came over and for dinner we had an unforgettable last-minute combo: Pizza Hut pizza, and a bottle of Dom Perignon. We toasted. We gave them all the goodies from our freezer. They went home. We swam in the pool under a full moon, then kept packing until our heads were numb with sleep.

Taking my numb skull to bed now. No Scott, that ain't you. You are the boy I'm going on the adventure with.