I have BIG news.

Friends,

I’m moving.

To Ohio.

Again.

On September 1st, all of my earthly possessions, my main squeeze, and myself will cram ourselves into my little white Taurus and drive 1,500 miles away from sunshiny Florida, to buckeye-land Ohio.

And, let me just tell you, I’m thrilled. Absolutely tickled pink.

But

Amidst all that joy, mixed up in all the excitement,  I’m sad, too. And terrified. And way, way, way out of my comfort zone.

I’m sad because going there, means leaving things behind here. People, places, and parts of my life that just won’t fit in my trunk no matter how many space saver bags I have. (Mom, don’t worry. I haven’t given up trying to find a way to squeeze you in.)

Waving goodbye to the tropical flavors that I have learned to love

Sayin’ sayonara to the breathtaking beauty of life near the equator

Leaving

all

of this

behind.

I’m terrified because the last time I moved to Ohio, I was *trying to run away from the mess that I had made of my life, and in the process, I just ended up hurting myself and the people I love the most. It’s taken a long time for those wounds to begin healing.

*in case you were wondering, life followed me

I’m so far out of my comfort zone because, well, to be honest I’m *somewhat of a control freak. Ok, ok. I AM 100% control freak. Everything I do is extreme. Perfectionist by nature, I am the definition of all or nothing. In my mind, black and white don’t fade to gray. I like plans. I thrive on details. And lists. Oh, how I adore lists. Unfortunately for me, this move was not planned. This move is not detailed. And there are no checklists.

I wish I was spontaneous. Really, I do. I would love to have a carefree mentality of taking everything in stride as it comes, and “rolling with the punches.” I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to leap before I looked. I’m sure, it’s bliss. The fact is, change of any and every kind freaks me out, throws me out of whack and turns my world upside down. I can’t even change shampoo brands without giving myself at least a week to adjust to the idea. I just hate it. I hate the unknown, the fear that comes when something is unfamiliar and thus potentially harmful. So to say this is a challenge for me, would be a grand understatement.

And the numero uno reason that I’m stressin’ so much? Four weeks (less than that now), is simply not enough time for me properly plan and execute the “perfect” move. Sadly, I’m not entirely sure that four months would be enough time. So now I’m rallying. I’m makin’ lists and checking them off  like a mad woman. I’ve packed my car up a few dozen times in my mind to figure out what essential items are making the trip with me. I’ve calculated and recalculated how much money I’m going to spend on gas and food. I’ve scheduled *bathroom breaks and rests and potential sites to stop and see along the way. And I’ve done all of this, knowing full and well that more than likely, nothing will go as planned. Because when does life work out like that?

*this is a no judgement zone

Anyways, that’s the scoop. You’ve all gotten to taste a little bit of my brand of crazy, and I hope that I haven’t frightened anyone away with my antics and fanatical rantings. But this is my life, and this is what has been taking place in it lately. Stay tuned for part 2 of my big news!

Always, A.