Tonight as my friend Carol Peterson and I were exiting the gorgeous Paramount Theatre here in Seattle, after an evening of 'foodie porn' (Anthony Bourdain and Mario Batali together on a stage with nothing else except Luke Burbank, microphones and potty mouths), she asked me;
"Do you realize that this time next week you will be living in Manhattan?"
If it weren't fo rthe fact that the last month has been the single most stressful period of time I've ever almost not survived I'd say "no". But at this point all I can think to say is, "I sure as hell better be because this roller coaster ride needs to end somewhere". To give you an idea of what I mean, it goes like this:
- Last week in April: we shoot a video as a way to market our house and it goes on the market
- First week in May: we fly to NYC for full week where we run into a friend of Kent's from High School, find an apartment in 2 days and I go to my first women entrepreneaur networking event.
- Second week in May: we have had a tremendous amount of interest in our house and we accept an offer. In the meantime I start prepping the house for the movers to come.
- Third week in may: the movers come pack, load and drive away with all our belongings. The SOLD sign goes up and all in the same day local TV news, KCPQ FOX calls and asks to do a story on the sale of our house using video and internet.
- Fourth week in May: We sell our cars, find homes for our cats, MDHK makes his final departure for our new home in NYC and the movers deliver our possessions.
Here I am now, in an empty house, alone, staring down the barrel of my last 6 days in the house and the town that we met, fell in love, got married and foster our lives in. The amount of stress that this move has caused me (and the damage to my skin) is only made tolerable by the fact that indeed, this time next week I'll be living in Manhattan (the East Village to be exact)!
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