I am exhausted. Typing this now, my head is foggy and my vision is constantly on the edge of doubling. My back hurts. My upper back is sore, I think from bad posture and sleeping a jumbled heap of bones instead of straight out on my back (like my mom’s chiropractor told me I should). My lower back is sore from lifting boxes and suitcases and furniture. My body has reminded me, very rudely may I add, that I’ve spend the batter half of the last six months sitting at my desk and not moving my body. I’ve signed up for a gym membership on a special New Year’s promo, so we’ll see how long my motivation to remedy my general lack of muscle definition lasts. I also haven’t been getting excellent sleep quality. Nothing to do with my back, though. It’s my head. Slightly lumpy pillows aside, I struggle to get my head to go to sleep. So much change is on the horizon or happening every day, my mind uses the end of the day to involuntarily plan and re-plan my week.
Partially, there is a lot to be considered. This week alone, I had to contact my new housemates to ask them how my moving procedure would work. I made a plan and shared it with them in hopes it’d get off without a hitch. I’d grab the key sometime earlier on in the week, move my personal belongings on Friday and move my furniture with the help of some friends on Saturday. Before I could pick up the key, though, my housemates wanted me to sign my contract and pay my deposit and first month’s rent. Fair. I then had to wait for them to send the contract over, read through it, sign it, and send it back, along with proof of payment. I was clear to pick up my key and deliver my stuff. While all of that was running, I had to consider my job, which I start next week. I had to prepare for a big meeting on Thursday in which we’d outline what our approach for February and March would be. I needed to reflect on what direction I thought the company should send me in and prepare some intelligent notes to bring with me. We then had our meeting, which lasted several hours. Turns out I was overthinking our media plan (shocker), but we settled on a list of tasks for the next month or two. In between all of that, I was texting friends, trying to organise help for my move, without really know if or when I could fetch my key (I had yet to sign my contract, which I only managed to do on Thursday). I also had to pack up my room, of course, and decide what, of the several boxes of things I’ve managed to accumulate since moving here with only one suitcase a year and some change ago, was worth keeping.
A lot, then. Curiously, my mind still found redundancies to chew on. On Thursday night, the night before moving the bulk of my personal effects from my old place to my new one, I lay awake for forty minutes. I was trying to figure out how to practically do the move. My girlfriend would meet me at my house in the morning, we’d rent a car share, and drop the stuff off at my new address. That was the whole plan. My mind spun, though, trying to optimise the plan over and over. I’ll take the two big boxes and the two suitcases. She can take the lighter stuff. Wait, no, the suitcases have got wheels, they won’t be too heavy for her. Then when we’re outside, we’ll pack all the stuff next to the car, and then reserve it on the app, that way I don’t pay for the time that we bring the luggage out of the house. Wait, no, someone will have to wait with the car to keep the stuff safe. That’ll have to be her, she won’t be able to carry the boxes from the staircase to the car…
Mindless, anxious overthinking. For almost an hour. I can’t turn it off. I tried to nap before I began writing today’s journal, but I was plagued by my inner voice rambling to himself. I even made a list of things that I need to do today to try and offload the relentless babbling, but it wasn’t especially effective. I am so excited, and so, so thankful for the position I find myself in. My house is great. I’m excited about my job. Both new opportunities are bright and shiny. Loads of great things are happening in my life, but that still means that loads of things are happening. After months of knocking on doors, and a whirlwind week of stepping through the right ones—great ones—I’m looking forward to the normalcy that follows. I can’t wait to crash into my pillows, with nothing to plan.
I realise now, sitting at my desk and writing, that I forgot to move my chair to the new place! Damn… If you enjoyed this journal, please subscribe.