My mom is an interior decorator. She's always talking about the importance of surrounding yourself with colors that make you feel good. Now I understand.
Up until Tuesday there was still this little voice in the back of my head now and then whispering that we were making the wrong decision. That we should just hunker down in our house, push Lance to take another W2 job and continue to work for the man forever. Vacation for the two weeks of allotted time a year and be content with that. Continue working to support the house until we're dead like the rest of America. After all, we worked so hard on this house and it is finally in good condition. We're basically happy here.
Until the interior of the house was painted white. Up until Monday I woke up every morning happy to be greeted by the underwater blue. It made me smile first thing in the day.
Now, I wake up every morning and my first thought is I HATE it here. I can't wait to get out. I hit the ground with both feet running. I'm pushing the real estate agent for the next project.
The RV is still at the shop getting the hydraulic jacks and the water pump replaced. In the meantime, we have piles to sort through because the painters evicted everything from every closet. Here I thought I was such a good little minimizer, and now that I see my entire closets dumped out onto the floor I realize we
have so, so far to go.
But now that little voice of doubt is long gone. I've just shifted from Low Forward to Second Gear. All eyes forward - let's go!
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