At a very late hour last night we got a phone call from the truck driver saying he'd be there at 8:00 am today. And so, once again, we were ready and waiting at 7:30, sleepy-eyed and feeling a vague sense of deja-vous settling over us.
At 9:45 I got another call saying, "I'll be there in 45 minutes."
At 10:00 the phone rang again. "I'm here!"
We ran out to the gate to let the driver in, but there was a lot of discussion as to where this giant truck was going to park in the apartment complex. The roads were clearly not made for moving trucks, and the turn into Tanner's apartment was too sharp to make. Instead, it parked near the mailboxes and we had to deal with a bit of walk from the front door to the truck bed. (An additional fee, of course.)
The two movers were very nice and though Tanner and I helped as best we could, they had everything under control. I signed paperwork while they scuttled back and forth, and the tall stacks of boxes dwindled to nothing. We did a quick vacuum of the place before that, too, was loaded up, and a mere three hours later they were shipping out with a quick, "see you in Oregon!" while we sat in a now-empty apartment.
Reality is setting in a bit. My uncle and my car have made it to the midwest so far, the truck was on its way that direction, too, and my one-way ticket cross-country is in a mere five days.
I've been so distracted by preparations and trucks and apartments that I wonder what will happen when it's just me alone with my emotions in a big, empty house in a big, new city.