We have officially spent 110% of our budget on 98% of our supplies.
Shopping for ten months of provisions is not something most people do before a move. It requires a willingness to stand in a grocery store aisle doing math about toilet paper consumption while strangers walk past looking concerned.
Two 48-packs. Then one more, for insurance. Six large cans of ketchup. Sixty boxes of pasta. Three commercial bags of flour. I keep second-guessing the flour.
This is the other side of hyperfocus: you either under-prepare entirely or you buy sixty boxes of pasta and question whether it’s enough. There is no middle. I’ve made a certain peace with this about myself.
Thomas’s coffee situation remains unresolved. He looked at the canned milk like it had personally disappointed him.
Three weeks to prepare for a move like this is enough time to really think — and thinking, for me, can spiral. The logistics I can handle. It’s the other stuff that sits heavier: the distance from the kids, from my parents, from the rhythms I know. I’ve done fast moves before — offer on Monday, plane on Wednesday — and those have their own clarity. This one has had enough runway that I’ve had time to feel the weight of it more fully.
Nothing about the decision has changed. But the weight is real, and I’m carrying it.
We leave Monday.