So things have gotten a little crazy around here over the past few weeks, but so far I have still managed to keep up with Handmade52. Somehow. Maybe partly because I need the distraction, even though I can’t really afford it much longer. I started an afghan this week, one that I saw in my summer issue of Crochet Today. I couldn’t find the yarn that the pattern called for, so I went with the old standard Red Heart Super Saver, and I’m okay with that. A ripple afghan is a pretty classic thing to crochet, and I feel a bit like it’s a right of passage. Or, okay, fine, I just wanted to make one and I like the stripes of the one from CT. I started it over the weekend, and am enjoying the mindless stitching as forced relaxation amid the chaos. Because I’m moving in a week.
I chose the colors when I thought we were buying a camel-colored couch, figuring that red and teal could be my accent colors. That was before I found out that the couch we loved was entirely too monstrous for our not-overly-large living room. So we don’t have a couch, but I’m still crocheting.
Moving is stressful. I’m sure you all know that. But it’s so much more than that for me, this time. It’s all gotten so complicated, the things that I am sad about, combined with the things I am excited about. Add in the fact that I’m, you know, turning 30 the day after I move, and my brain is kind of on overload. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Dan and I have been together for two years and nine months now, and we have livedan hour apart the whole time. He works nights, I work days, so one of us has been driving ut to see the other every weekend. And it’s doable, it’s certainly not as difficult as many people deal with, but it has gotten old. When I started my current job last fall, we decided that it was about time to think about getting a place together, because we are both just so tired of packing a bag every other weekend, figuring out where we’ll be, adjusting plans based on who we’ll be closer to… etc.
We found a place that we both like, despite an awful, frustrating process. And it’s good. And I’m happy. I’m in a good place as far as packing goes, and I’m off starting on Friday for what was originally supposed to be our Birthday Week Extravaganza (Dan’s is on Monday, mine on Thursday) but is now Moving Week with a Side of Birthdays.
I know there shouldn’t be a but. And I’ll get to the things I’m excited about in a minute. But for me, this is kind of the end of an era, and it is hard, sometimes, to always be expected to only talk about the things I’m excited about. Because there are a lot of things I’m going to miss, little things that I am losing. I’ve now lived by myself for four years and now… I won’t. I like living by myself. There’s no one to judge me for how often I eat cheese and crackers for dinner. Or the fact that my refrigerator is stocked with beer and cheese and cranberry juice most of the time. I love my bedroom and the sunshine during the day. I love my wall of Es and how close I am to my family. And Chipotle. And my favorite pizza in the world.
But more than anything else, I love that I have lived 15 minutes from the beach all of this time. (All my life, truly.) I can go there when I need inspiration or when I’m sad or when I just want to smell the salty air. And I have never been able to imagine not being so close.
Except in a week I will no longer be that close. And that is making me really sad.
Okay, fine, I’m only moving an hour northwest. And Dan and I will finally be together, and we’ll have a pool to swim in and I’ll have someone to cook for. And we won’t have to miss each other on weekdays. And you guys, I’m getting a CRAFT ROOM and it will be full of my books and craft supplies and it is SO SUNNY. And I will be able to do laundry whenever I damn well want to, instead of once a week at my parents house. There’s an ice cream store and a pizza place within walking distance. And holy crap, we’ll be TOGETHER.
So there’s sad. But there’s good. And yes, I’m turning 30 right in the midst of it and that makes everything even more complicated and stressful. But I’m still crafting, and life goes on, in both big ways and small ways.