I had a lot of expectations for moving day. I sort of had a whole script in mind of how it would go, how it would feel and how I would act and react. But ultimately, it was completely different from anything I expected.
First of all, it was dark and cold and gloomy. And when you're trying to feel sad about leaving sunny Los Angeles, a cold and overcast day doesn't help that much. Next, the movers were clearly very experienced and professional, but they were quite possibly the slowest operation I've ever encountered, which only succeeded in making me nervous. Finally, I imagined walking through the empty house and yard as the soundtrack swelled and a montage of happy memories played. But, ultimately, I just wanted to leave.
I guess I didn't need all the drama and sad goodbyes and tearful strolls down memory lane. I think I did all that while packing, so the empty house just felt...well...empty. Paul and Andrea stopped by to say goodbye, which gave us another opportunity to say, "Here, take this" and hand them stuff we wanted to unload. Mallery spent the day with us, helping direct the movers and organize the whole show. And, of course, Philip was there. Whenever I mention having a housekeeper, I always feel ridiculously pretentious, because, growing up, housekeepers were only fictional characters on TV, not anyone I'd ever encounter in real life. But now I've encountered a lot of them, because they all tend to quit after I drive them crazy with my demands. But Philip was a treasure and somehow managed to put up with all my over-the-top OCD requirements. He even survived the 4-page Excel worksheet detailing how to clean each room.
Now that we're on our way, I hope I can stop being so philosophical and start having some fun. Even I have a low tolerance for my existential bullshit.