When John and I got a bee in our bonnet last fall to sell our house and move up to Bellefonte permanently, we knew in theory it was going to be a long road, but we definitely did not have any idea just how hard these past seven months would end up being.

Add in a healthy dash of multiple sclerosis bullshit and the American healthcare system, and it’s been a very long, very difficult, very eye-opening 2023.

Tomorrow, we are due to close on our house.

This is not our first closing. It’s our third, so it’s not completely unfamiliar territory. But when the builder sent an email on May 31st saying that our closing date would be June 28, you could have knocked us over with a gentle breeze. This house building process has been anything but smooth and has left me at times heartbroken, disappointed and angrier than hell. I’ve never in my life spent so much money and had so little control. I have smiled longer and harder in the face of just mind-numbing condescension and bullshit than I did when I worked and let me tell you … that’s saying something.

Anyway, all this to say that as of today, we still have shit water pressure, our AC unit apparently won’t cool the house further than 68 degrees (words cannot articulate my horror at this news – that we would have to add to our HVAC unit in BRAND NEW CONSTRUCTION … ), our front porch pillars are 2x4s, no one knows how the generator hook-up works, people are still referring to the primary bedroom as master (can you see the steam coming from my ears?), the yard hasn’t been landscaped, our stove/oven is incorrect, there is a section of shingles that have been beaten all to hell (and on the other side of replacing our last roof after only six years, I can tell you that’s a sore spot for us), there is a portapotty on the edge of our driveway, a huge dumpster across the street and we have huge delivery trucks coming every day for the rest of the week. None of these issues include the things we have to do on our own – like the water softener so our pipes don’t get clogged with calcium and the tech consult so that our internet will work throughout the entire house.

Listen, it’s not all bad. This will be our very first single family home with a yard. The kitchen (other than the oven/stove 🤦🏻‍♀️) is beautiful. We are having custom closets designed. We just bought an incredible table and we can’t wait to settle in (even if Eli is going to most likely be a complete maniac).

I have a moment every day when I want to cry. I have many moments when all I want to do is sleep. But I also always think about all the things I’m grateful for – the parts of my life that make living easier. To begin, I don’t work. And even though I miss working, I am grateful every single day that hubs earns enough for us to be comfortable and be able to do all these crazy things. I’m grateful for air-conditioning and heating and NA wine and the ability to buy food and go to yoga and the salt room and all the things. I’m grateful for a husband and partner who loves me no matter what (and that gets tested a lot because MS is a lot). I’m grateful for my amazing family and my friends. I’m grateful for Eli. I’m grateful for travel and books and the movies. All the first world shit, Y’know?

Anyway. That’s where we’re at. I’m sitting at our kitchen table, frozen in a state of what should I do next? We aren’t moving a lot from this house so there isn’t a lot to pack. But … there is because clothing and toiletries (of which I have more than any one person should ever have!). We’re moving one fridge and having another delivered so food transfer shouldn’t be that bad. My high school reunion – which is Saturday – cancelled the day time portion so at least that freed up the weekend for us to work on getting settled in. I’m devastated (I’m the girl who wants to go to the reunion because she loved high school). But I also know that MS is knocking on the door and I’m going to spectacularly crash one of these days. And that’s not fair to John or Eli.

Xox, g