This thing happens when I'm planning to move where I'm FINE. I'm calm and I'm FINE. I'm not stressed, at least not any more than usual. Everything's cool. No biggie. How many times have I done this? Whatever!
But one day I might need to go into a room, shut the door behind me, and slide my back down along the door frame. I'll sit crouched on heels, elbows crossed over knees, head hanging, overwhelmed. Normally this would be my bedroom, though bathrooms work really well, too, with their tiled psychiatric unit vibe.
I can't focus on anything EXCEPT INTERNET SHOPPING.
It happened when I left Seattle for New York. I channeled all of my moving anxiety into eBay and found myself profoundly and inexplicably pining for big fake turquoise jewelry and a pair of clear plastic pumps. I shit you not.
I was housesitting at the time and spent several days hovering around the computer, monitoring my bids, and tore myself away only to heat up something from Trader Joe's and to take the three Siberian huskies to the dog park.
Yesterday it took me two hours longer than it should have to leave the house because I first had to search online for the perfect combination of messenger bag or backpack to match every article of clothing I've ever owned.
I thought I'd found two bags I liked on the Zappos website and was poised to enter my credit card information when I remembered something: A teal and chartreuse dragonfly print shirt that I haven't worn in five years.
Both bags clashed with that shirt. Never mind that EVERYTHING, except maybe the backs of closed eyelids, clashes with that shirt and that's why I never wear it. Never mind that I had to make an appointment with a tax accountant, change banks, compare shipping rates for sending all my stuff to California, and research medical insurance. Never mind that I had only slept for four hours.
The point was that my future was wound up tightly with a shirt that hasn't seen daylight since 2002 - that and my ability to take advantage of free overnight shipping.