Moving blows.

I hate moving. I hate packing, I hate schelepping, I hate unpacking. And since this will be roughly my fifteenth move in 12 years, you'd think I'd have this down pat. But I don't; I procrastinate as much as I can and then stress the fuck out at the last minute. So far, par for the course. The excitement of getting a job and the initial rush to pack has ebbed, and knowing that I have two weeks is dangerous. "Oh sure" I tell myself, "you can watch the weekly SVU marathon all day because you're not moving for two whole weeks."

Maybe I should pack up the TV.

It also doesn't help that we're moving back into an apartment. The place we're in now is amazing- it's a 100 year old duplex with hardwood floors and an upstairs and a basement. There are built-ins and original tile in the bathroom. It has completely spoiled me for having to move back into a beige apartment. The *only* reason haven't held out for something better is that there IS nothing better because we have dogs. Our little guy, Ziggy, is no problem, but Shelby is a big dog (60-70 lbs) and most of the places have weight limits of 30 lbs. So this place will let us have both, and it has a pool and is 20 minutes from the Indiana Dunes, so it won't suck while it's still warm out. Winter will be boring, I'm sure, but by then I'll be ass deep in the spring musical, so maybe I won't notice.

I think I'm fixating on the move because once that's taken care of, I will have to write an curriculum and prepare for the coming school year, and if I didn't admit to being nervous, I'd be lying. Excited, but terrified.

YOU'RE GOING TO GIVE ME HOW MUCH?!?

I got a job.

A REAL, BIG-GIRL, CAREER TYPE JOB. Holy hell, I'm in such a state that I got it several days ago and I'm just now posting this. Because it's in another state, and I have to move, and I've been packing and looking for a house and OH MY GOD I HAVE A JOB!!!!!!!

There is the eternal cynic in me that doesn't trust this 100% until the paperwork is signed. Like, we told our current landlord that we're out at the end of the month and I nearly had a panic attack because in 27 days we'll be homeless unless I find us something, and dear GOD WHAT HAPPENS IF THEY CALL AND SAY, "HA HA, JUST KIDDING!" AND WE'RE STUCK IN FUCKING INDIANA LIVING OUT OF A UHAUL???"

I'm better now. Largely because in the interview the principal let it slip that I was the only applicant that had the right kind of certification and also because I'm going up on Wednesday to sign my letter of intent and to look at a house that's 3 blocks from Lake Michigan (BEACH!!!). And dreaming about my new position as a Drama/English teacher in a high school. Holy shit, I'm terrified. However, the theatre I will be occupying for what I hope is a long time seats over 2,000. Which is larger than the "state-of-the-art" facility my college alma mater spent millions and 6 years building. HA! Take that, higher education!

I should point out that at the time of this posting it is the 4th of July and I've been drinking. Because right now, a beer is a better idea than packing. Woot!