Date night.

I wonder what the opposite of Indian Summer is?  Because this day, as far as what is going on outside the window, is just that.  It is cool and breezy.  It required socks and a long sleeve tshirt.  Would this be, maybe a “Texan Winter” or maybe a “Mexican Christmas”?  Anyway, it made me yearn for school to be back in.

Or, maybe it was the screaming, fighting and bored children.  Yeah, it was probably that.

To top it off, all of Facebook has a date tonight.  Babysitters were called, children left with their grandparents, parents are all out somewhere holding hands like the first summer they were dating.  And they will come home, tipsy, and crawl into cool sheets be grateful for the stolen time together. 

Anyway, that’s how I imagine it.  A good portion of my friend postings have something to do with “date night.”

We didn’t do that enough, date night.  Going out was a serious luxury reserved for birthdays (sometimes), tax returns and visits to family.  We were pinching every penny, especially after Ella was born and we decided that we would find a way for me to stay home.  Which we did but it should come as no surprise when, years later during his illness, that we would be financially devastated.  There was no wiggle room to even pay a babysitter and have dinner out, much less lose a full income.  Anyway…that’s not where I wanted to go with this.

Let’s talk about being stuck.  Let’s talk about not knowing where to start.  I feel like I have packed all I want to pack…and there’s still so much to do.  I hate walking around boxes.  I hate not having something that I know I own and not being able to get to it.  And I really hate moving.

But I love having a new house.  I will love being close to my family.  I am ready to go back to work in an industry that I know and trust (it really is my only employable skill). 

I am full of excuses.  I don’t want to go downstairs and work on stuff because Kids Bop is blaring (thank you Ronald McDonald for introducing my daughter to THAT).  I could go and continue packing my room but, again, what if I want to *wear* those shoes in the next three weeks?  I could pack the girls’ room but then I would have to clean up the mess that is in there and I told Ella that it was her job.  That worked well. 

Have you seen my motivation?  Or is it out on a date like everyone else?

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