Change is Hard

Don’t stand in the doorway

Don’t block up the hall

For he that gets hurt

Will be he who has stalled.

 - Bob Dylan, The Times They Are a Changing

There are those who insist that nothing is impossible. I respectfully disagree. I used to do nothing every day. Except this week while I’ve been staggering more than a one legged man on a tightrope. I saw this fork in the road, and I took it and I didn’t realize it would involve so much deciding, spending, worrying, scheduling, working and getting dirty.

And so very much cleaning. Hoarding should be a hanging offense and everybody should have to move every 5 years. To a smaller place each time.

I would have said doing all this in such a short time was impossible. I was wrong. I also underestimated how cranky it would make me. And believe me, I already know I am easily pissed.

The cats complicate my life because they have to be segregated from each other and from whatever room people are coming and going and there’s been a lot of that. The other day, I was wandering around looking for my misplaced (fill in the blank) and glanced outside and noticed Lily strolling through the back yard. Inside the house no longer constitutes an enriched environment/hoader’s paradise and the cats are cranky about losing their hiding places.

With all the coming and going and packing and loading and cleaning and looking for the disappearing magic markers (Wait! Is that why they’re magic?) I’ve been blocking hallways or been blocked in doorways. I have totally not been stalled and I’m covered with the kind of bruises only a 3.2 INR and hauling boxes (or losing a meth-head slam-dancing contest) can make.

What has got me through? Although I have not abused any substances, I have treated several with great respect.

(Photo credit: Kitty Crowther, Le Grande Disordre, which looks like me but I wasn't getting any help from living rats)