It's been 48 hours since I made the mental jump from Murrayville to Fraser Heights being my home. My body arrived here before my heart did.
So, after two days? Thoughts?
I miss my bathtub. Like, alot.
Actually, you have no idea.
Give me a sec. I'm just remembering.
Soaker tub. Spacious.
Bright room. Bubbles.
Candles. Good book.
Let it go, Jane. Let it go.
I love my evening view here. ALOT.
I got home from work/errands at 7, then BBQed some chicken, and had it with a salad while I watched Seventh Heaven with my mom. She then watched the Road Show for two hours, (she is so going to love having me live here and report on her every activity) and I went down to 'my' deck, and read a book. (Yes, I have noted that since the day I took my own TV to the lake, I've started reading again. Three books in 2 weeks.) Yay me.
This may change. I stopped in at Best Buy tonight and hired a geek from the Geek Squad to come over here next week and show me how to operate the equipment in the media room ten steps away from my bedroom. 70" Flat Screen Sony and surround sound with 12 remotes and I can't turn the dumb thing on.
I predict once I get that puppy up and running, my book-reading will drop off again. In the meantime, though, I've got 12 books on my night stand.
This, by the way, is my view:
Well, dead quiet until the Middle Eastern Neighbour starts talking on his cell phone. And then he walks right up to my deck, (speaking in some language other than English), so that his conversation doesn't interrupt the rest of his family walking aimlessly through their yard. (?)
It didn't last long.
Next time I'll bring my phone outside with me and listen to music while I read. Because I'm super friendly like that.
And then the sun started to set and it was too dark to read.
So I came in to blog.
So pretty, no?
Other random thoughts.
My commute to work this morning lasted two and a half songs. So, quick, is what I'm saying. It takes less time to get from Surrey to Langley than it did to get from uh, Langley to Langley.
Freeways? Were a very good invention.
So that's something for the plus column.
On the other hand? This neighbourhood's Nester's Market? Sucks.
(Sorry friend who is the HR Manager for this chain.)
I stopped in there on my way home, just like I used to stop in at IGA in the olden days (like, last week) and got a stab of homesickness. This was now 'my' store. And I don't like it.
Terrible produce and bakery. And it doesn't 'feel' inviting.
What? Isn't that what everyone wants in a grocery store?
Quit judging me; I'm fragile right now.
And you know what? Moving from a person's house is disruptive in many ways. You're not just leaving your house. It's the whole way of life that gets messed up. Like, my bank, my pharmacy, my sushi place, my pizza place, my eyebrow threading guy, my Neo Strata supplier, my post office, my doctor, my last minute grocery store and my not-last-minute grocery store WERE ALL IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD. I could walk to them all. After ten years, I knew them. They knew me. I have to start all over again. And just listen to me whine.
Know what else feels weird? Going back to work at your old job once you've moved. Like, everything else has changed over the weekend, and what? Back to the same old job? But I'm different now. I live in someone's unfinished basement. I use someone else's plates and cups. My bathroom here is painted black and has a black slate floor and black towels and no windows. It has a pedestal sink with no cabinet and no counter and no room for my toothbrush or an extra roll of toilet paper. When I wash my face, the water runs down my arms and drips onto the floor at my elbows, puddling at my feet. I have to learn a new way to wash my face in this place. And with all that going on, everything is normal at my job? I don't think so.
I am going to have an identity crisis in about ten minutes.
My fourth one in this lifetime.
WHO AM I?
On the plus side, there is an ice machine in mom's fridge. I love that in an appliance.
On the plus side, these accommodations come with a cleaning lady, a lawn guy and a gardener. Plus a mom and a niece. So there's that.
On the plus side, this is where God wants me.
On the down side. I really miss my bathtub.
As I took apart my bedroom in Murrayville I noted, 'well, I didn't have sex in this room either.' When I moved into my first house on my own after the divorce, (it was just up the road from here, in Fraser Heights), I was pretty sure I'd be getting married again. And that I'd have a husband to share that house/bedroom with. So I never fully claimed the master bedroom, it's huge walk in closet or the ensuite as all mine. I only used half the bed, never getting used to sleeping in the middle because someday a guy would be sharing that space with me. And I left half the closet (well actually more than half) available for 'him'. And same with the bathroom. I only put my stuff on one side of the counter and I never used that second sink.
Haha. Joke was on me.
I had this fantasy that he would instinctively know my love of the movie Say Anything and he'd declare his love for me by pulling into the cul-de-sac BEHIND the house, and walking across the unfinished lot behind the one I was living in, and knowing my bedroom was at the back of the house, he'd hold a ghetto blaster high above his head, (which would be playing In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel) at midnight when he'd know I'd be going to bed.
Or, he'd walk through a misty field at dawn wearing a white puffy shirt.
Where was I?
Another bedroom that Jane did not have sex in.
And as I was making up my bedroom here, in my mom's basement, on possibly the best bed I've ever assembled, I wondered if I should get stickers made up and leave one behind in every room I sleep in; "Jane Did Not Have Sex in This Room."
You know. For in case anyone wonders.
(It would be the opposite of leaving a notch in the headboard.
Wait. Is that even a thing?
Just a sec. I'll check.
Yes, it IS a thing. But it's a notch in the bedpost.
So my stickers would be like, an indication that no notches were necessary.)
Lastly, and not because I'm out of thoughts, but because I want to go read, I own too much stuff. You probably do to.
Let's not buy anything else for 2 months, OK?
OR if you DO buy something, get rid of two things when you bring it home. Trust me on this. Buy one, get rid of two. Do the math. It totally works.
Over and out.
Three things I'm thankful for:
1. That I DO still have my job. Can you imagine if I didn't? Whoa.
2. That Pro's always outweigh the Con's.
3. That I am here for His purposes and by His design. I pray His will be done.
A prayer request...
As you know, Clint's in Uganda. His wallet was stolen over the weekend. Please pray God's protection over him and the team he's with. Thanks.