A month ago I posted about my planning process. In it, I wrote this:
A plan is just a plan. It is, by its very nature, the one way you can pretty much guarantee your project will not actually happen. I mean, seriously here … something is guaranteed to go wrong. Something will happen in a way you did not plan. This is the way of life.
In my case, the something has turned out to be this: we’re up and moving.
That’s right, after essentially fifty years living in the great mid-west, Lisa and I are now deeply into the process of moving our home out to the mountainous drylands of Arizona–just north of Tucson, Oro Valley to be precise. We have several reasons for this, but the greatest by far is that the house we’ve picked out is a grand total of one mile away from my parents. It will be more than great to spend some time with them again. It’s been nearly a decade since we lived close enough to them.
You can guess the drill that’s been going on here in Columbus since we made that decision: close on one house, get another ready for the market. Since Lisa has the main day-job, she spends her weekends identifying things we’re keeping and things we’re not. Then most of the intense implementation process clearly falls on my shoulders. I break the stuff down. I move the stuff. You get the idea. And since we’ve been in this house for 22ish years, we’ve got a lot of stuff. What this means is that for three weeks, 100% of my effort has been focused on the house. Trashing stuff, donating stuff, selling stuff, organizing, planning, re-planning, reviewing and signing documents, making a gazillion decisions. All day. Every day. For three weeks.
It’s all quite daunting. Half priced books has seen me four times. The entire gang at Sans Souci welcomes me back every day.
This means I’m not doing much email (if I owe you a response, I apologize…I’ll get to it, I promise!). It means I’m barely skimming things like Twitter and Facebook. It means I’m not posting. It means I’m not marketing work. And mostly, it means I’m not writing. My plan has been shattered into about a katrillion pieces.
Yes, it’s been a long, long three weeks.
Our actual move date isn’t final, yet, but it’s earlier than later—maybe mid-September? Dunno. I’ll write more when I know more. The light is at the end of the tunnel, though. The path is now fairly clear, and I’m optimistic of being able to actually get back to a manuscript at least part-time by Friday.
We’ll see if there still exist words in my head. I hope the keyboard still feels right.
Once I’m going in the right direction again, we’ll go back and see about that plan. [grin] In the meantime, can anyone tell me something fun about the SF community in Tucson?