Moving Sucks

Moving sucks.

Officially, February 14th, Valentine’s Day, I joined Jess in Shreveport, LA where we would put our roots to raise our daughter around family. A ton of family.

But that was not without it’s difficulties. The new bank paid me a lump sum to move, which I assumed would be more than enough. To the point that I thought we might even get white glove treatment. I was dead wrong. Moving is crazy expensive. We ended up with enough to order 2 PODS and box and store everything ourselves. The big stuff went in the first POD when Buddha came and helped me move the heavy stuff for about 2 hours. Jess watched, entertained her friend Kristi, and held our 2 week old daughter. I’m proud of her as she’s becoming a great mom.

So we get that POD loaded and off the weekend before. The next one, which is to hold all the rest of the house, arrives on a Monday and I’m leaving on a Saturday. I told Jess I could handle it. And handle it, I did not. Saturday morning came so fast, I couldn’t believe it. The workweek was so fast, trying to tell customers, coworkers and friends “goodbye”. I had a ton to do on Saturday. I spent all day boxing, taping, packing and hating life. But it was done and it was time to take another step in life.

But not before I had to get these two critters into the truck to start a 2 hour 50 minute drive. I was nervous about how they’d react. I drugged them with this herbal calming stuff caked onto treats, which seemed to calm them a bit. It made them all lovey at least. Until it was time to get in the truck.

I wasn’t out of the driveway before Millie was hiding under the seat. I could handle that as long as she didn’t pee in the truck. But our vocal little kitty, Georgia Ann, wasn’t having it. I guess she made it about 30 minutes of quietly pacing around the truck, from front seat to back seat to my lap to my shoulder over the seat back to the back. Over and over. But that wasn’t so bad, I could handle her pacing. I pace too. But when Jess called to get a status update, and Georgia heard her mom’s voice over the speaker, she had to answer. And answer she did. For the next 2 hours and 20 minutes, she meowed. She paced, she meowed, she repeated. It was like all of the Super Trooper “right meows” I’ve dealt out in my life all came back to haunt me on the road.

Thank God we didn’t move to the coast. Wow.


Anyhow, we made it and the family was reunited at the Haynie Camphouse. A new adventure begins.

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