Okay. Time for another state of the me. Lots happening.
Firstly, I've got the plague again, even worse than last time. I'm feeling better today, but for the last few days I've felt like death. The worst part is not being able to rely on my precious DayQuil to fix me. My OB says Tylenol and allergy pills, but the 24-hour Claritin I had wasn't making a dent. Mr. Fantastic took my miserable self to the grocery store where we spent like $50 on cold remedies and Halloween candy, both of which made me feel immensely better. The doctor suggested I try Benadryl or Sudafed instead of the Claritin, so we got both, but so far I have only tried the Benadryl. I must bow before the altar of Benadryl, for it hath ended my misery. Thank goodness! I haven't taken it since I was a kid, because it used to make me super hyper. Now, it puts me right to sleep and dried up all my sneezy sniffles. Ahhh.
Even though the plague is under control, we still have a lot going on. With Peanut on the way, we've decided to sell our one-bedroom condo and buy a house. Yikes, in this market?! I know. But we don't have room in our place for us, let alone a baby. Technically, we'd prolly have room for the actual baby, just not for all the associated crap that comes with a baby. Anyway, so the realtor came over last week to check out our place and basically told us that half our stuff had to go. So this weekend, despite the plague and general feelings of avoidance, Mr. F and I rented a storage unit and packed away a whole bunch of stuff. It was a very daunting task which mostly involved heavy lifting on Mr. F's part and the filling of boxes on mine. Plus both of our brothers came to help with the lifting and driving portion, so it went pretty quickly.
We have crazy storage space here – awesome closets which, over the course of 6+ years, I have been able to cram full of an amazing amount of crap. It was kind of cleansing going through and tossing stuff or putting things in the goodwill pile. Plus, now my closets look unbelievably organized and actually as if they will hold more than I already know they do. Huh. I would've thought it would be a bonus for buyers to see just how much crap you can fit into a closet, but apparently not.
Our place, now devoid of all "personal" touches such as photographs and tchotchkes and literally half our furniture, looks like a hotel. Well, a very messy hotel, anyway, until I get around to straightening up and arranging what's left of our stuff. Once the place is all spiffed up, our realtor will come back and take pictures and such and get us on the market.
It's kind of sad, really, but I guess not having too much stuff or anything personal is what helps potential buyers imagine themselves living in your home. I don't want to leave here but there's just no way we can stay. *sad face* Still, I am really looking forward to a new house and preparing for this next step in our lives. I hope someone sees our place and falls just as much in love with it as we did. And then wants to give us lots of money for the privilege of living here.
The scary part of this whole moving house thing is that we can't buy a place until we sell ours. Which means once we get a contract on our place, we have like three days to pack the rest of our stuff and move out, as well as look for and buy a new place of our own. Yikes, again. I suppose if we had to, we can put the rest of our stuff in storage and live in a hotel for a week or whatever until we find a house we love. Daunting prospect, regardless!
So, along with the plague and the moving house thing…Mr. Fantastic has changed jobs. He hated his old job, has done for a long time and basically was dreading going in to the office every day. It was draining all the life and happiness from him. Even though it's not exactly the best time for it, he left. The good news is that he got a contract for two to three weeks with his brother-in-law's company. It's great money for such a short period, and it's doing something completely different which will be a good change for him.
The bad news is the job is in Nebraska. He left this morning. He was very wary of leaving me for such a long period of time, and truthfully, I'm not thrilled to have him gone, but we decided it was the best thing for us to do right now. I'm fine and there's no reason for him to worry about me or the baby, although that's not going to actually stop him worrying. Mostly, I think we'll just miss each other a whole bunch. I already feel kind of lonely in my half-empty house that's now empty of him, too.
We're not entirely sure how we're going to manage this whole packing up and moving and whatnot with him being gone, but we'll make it work. He keeps reminding me not to lift anything heavy, but it's mostly toasters and lamps and pillows and such now, so I'm not worried about that. And we still have to think about what Mr. F will be doing when he gets back in a few weeks, but I'm sure we'll figure something out.
Anyway, I've got a lot on my mind. Monday was a bad day – I was feeling so dreadful and thinking about all the things happening and had a few spontaneous bouts of weepiness that I know made Mr. F feel awful too. Now that I'm not feeling so sick, things don't seem as overwhelming but it's still a lot to have going on all at once. I know everything will be fine but phew, some days it feels like too much.