So glad its over...

I'm talking about moving. Moving is hell, but it's finally done. Let me just tell you...thank god for movers!!! If it wasn't for them, I think we would still be trying to move out of that apartment. I didn't realize how much stuff we had until we started packing. As the piles of boxes started filling up our dining room, the anxiety started setting in. So much so, I had to call our storage place (yes, we moved the entire contents of 10 years of our life into storage) to upgrade our unit size.

So it's done. Our 2 bedroom apartment is inside a 10x20 storage unit. Minus all of Diego's stuff of course. For those of you who didn't know...we finally got a wild hair up our butt and decided that we were tired of talking about it, moving to Portland that is. So we decided to pack up and move in with my parents (ok, so the deciding factor for that one was that it gets HOT in the summer in our apartment. That's a death trap for babies.). Our plan was to move in with the folks to save money, pay of some debt, and have more flexibility for the big move when it came. Our goal was to move in September. Now, I say "was", because the plan was Justin would transfer his job there and work from home, but his company just got bought out by a very larger company and now we're not sure if he can do that. If that doesn't happen, then we'll be staying in the South Bay. Which is great because all our friends and family are now closer, but the commute to work stinks!!!

I'm so sad to say goodbye to our apartment. I loved the place. Ok, not so much the actual apartment with rotting wood floors, and windows that, no matter how much you cleaned never seemed to be clean (oh the list goes on). I loved the neighborhood. After 10 years of calling Los Feliz my home, I'm sad to move away from there. No more walks to my favorite juice stop for coconut kale shakes. No more walks up and down Vermont just to browse the local shops and people watch. Now it's hello endless mini malls and cookie cutter houses, BUT there is some sort of calmness about the suburbs, that I didn't realize I was missing. Our first night at my parents house, was so quiet. No siren's or helicopters flying over head. No gunshots in the distance. Just. Quiet. Except for the cat. The poor guy isn't allowed in the bedrooms. He went from sleeping with us every night to being locked out, but mom's rules. No cats allowed in the bedrooms. Ok, this is the first cat she's ever had to live with, but so sad for our furbaby. He meowed and scratched at the door all night. I hope he gets used to it fast.

I was going to take photos of the move, but just couldn't bring myself to do it.