Champing at the Bit

Well, escrow is supposed to close on Friday at 9 a.m. But Mike, my Realtor, hasn't heard from the seller's agent (the guy who takes three and four days to return a phone call or an e-mail). So we're still not sure that escrow will close on Friday if no one from the seller's side makes it to the signing. I'm hoping that the jerk will call before the meeting and let us know they'll be attending. So that's an "if" that's unresolved.

Then there's the actual move of my household goods. They haven't been picked up yet, which means the stuff might not show up until the latter part of the May 18-25 delivery window. I will know when it leaves Monrovia, as Pink Transfer will be sending me an e-bill for the haul which I will have 48 hours to pay. I won't know the date and time of delivery until the day before, when the driver will give me a call and let me know the particulars. So that's a second "if" that's unresolved; two more if you count the driver's phone call.

I went down to AAA yesterday (the offices are in Onalaska, which is just north of La Crosse) and got homeowner's insurance on the new house. I paid the full year and they did a wire transfer with the check, so the coverage will be in place on Friday. That's an "if" taken care of.

This morning I had the electricity and gas service transferred to my name as of Friday, so that's another "if" taken care of. Mike said the water and trash (called refuse and recycling) transfer will be taken care of at close of escrow. On Friday. If everyone shows up.

I've got the new appliances picked out for the house, but I haven't placed an order yet because I'm not sure when I'm going to have them delivered and installed. I'm heading into La Crosse this evening to be part of an information-gathering seminar on LGBT healthcare needs (my first foray into networking with the gay community), so I might head in early and stop in at Wettstein's and place the order. Or not.

Then there's still the bed to deal with. I want to get a new one, so I have something to sleep on at the house before the household stuff (and my old bed) arrives. I'll have to locate a couple of retailers in La Crosse and find something suitable. It would be really cool if I could get all the local stuff in the house next Monday or Tuesday, so I can start overnighting there.

I've decided to leave Patty in place here in Winona until the house is unpacked and in some kind of order. God knows she's had enough change and disruption for one cat. She's getting more relaxed now and actually shows herself when just Amanda and I are in the room. She has even come out while Natalie was on the quiet side, and Natalie has attempted to play with Patty using the one toy I brought in the car from California. The encounter didn't last long, but it was clear the cat was not panicked, just kind of non-plussed by this little person with the penny-bright red hair.

So here in the home stretch, it's kind of like driving home and needing to use the bathroom; it seems like the closer you get to the toilet, the worse you have to go. It's the anticipation, I think, of reaching something dearly desired; something that will make the discomfort go away and bring a sort of balance back into my life.

Champing at the bit. It's very frustrating. I want all the "ifs" to go away. I want to flop down in my own house and just be there. I want my stuff back with me again. I want to wake up in the morning and take a walk in my neighborhood filled with lovely, old regal homes. I want to park my car in my garage. I want to try out the toilets and the shower and bath. I want to sleep in my own bed and put my clothes away in my own closets.

I want to make breakfast and burn the toast and smell it all over the house. I want to watch the cat charge up and down the new stairs with that sparkle in her eyes that says she knows she owns the place; I just pay the insurance and the taxes and keep the food coming. And I want a place to invite people over, have a dinner party, watch the Oscars (in lieu of football games).

So much want. Such driving need. All just up and over this small hill, waiting on the other side, and there's nothing I can do about it but wait. It will all unfold, like an old road map, over and over and over again until it's wide and flat and revealed. Only then do you get a sense of proportion and direction.

Ommmmmmmmmmm.