Month: September 2019

Countdown to an Aneurysm

My calendar is killing me right now. I am not a fan of dealing with things or people and that is literally all I am doing for the next three weeks. Who knew moving to a foreign country could be so involved?

I recently received a federal grand jury summons for December. Hate to break it to you folks but I’m not going to be around for that. Thank you in advance for your understanding.

Analysis paralysis is setting in hardcore. Big decisions are easy; the small ones not so much. I trashed all of my yearbooks and various items I’ve been dragging around with me for the past two decades. I definitely did not need to keep the stuffed koala bear my grandmother brought to the hospital when I was born. Or the stuffed shark headband I wore to a Jimmy Buffett concert circa 2003.

Anxiety and OCD. Rigid punctuality. Routine. Proper prior planning. Checklists. Chest pains. Nausea. Insomnia.

At this point, anyone who adds to my stress level is going overboard. I am not entertaining any nonsensical bullshit. I just have to get through this and if you’re not part of the solution, I can’t even with you.

Here’s one thing I do know: A month from today, I will run with my dogs on the beach. I will cultivate some motherfucking Zen if it’s the last thing I do.

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Happy Adoptaversary!

In September of 2009, I was living in a tiny Kansas town and minding my own business with my two Rottweilers, Rommel and Patton. There was a super obnoxious little puppy who lived across the street and she would run into my driveway to bark at me when I would pull my car into the garage. I had no idea what kind of dog she was; I just saw a brindle behavioral nightmare.

I just happened to notice one day that the neighbors across the street appeared to have moved away but their ill-behaved puppy was still there. I called the City Clerk (small town, right?) and she confirmed they were gone. What kind of monster just moves away and leaves their pet behind to fend for itself?

I immediately took food and water over to the little monster and noticed she was definitely malnourished. She was also covered in fleas. I was able to get close to her but it was obvious by her reactions that she hadn’t been treated well. Another neighbor and I took turns feeding her and she was just hiding underneath whatever she could find for shelter. I learned from some kids in the neighborhood her name was Lulu and they said her people left her because they didn’t want her to potty in the car.

It only took a couple days for me to decide the little ragamuffin was coming home with me. But first, flea and tick prevention! I dosed her with Frontline Plus and continued feeding and getting to know her for a week before I brought her across the street to her new home. She heard the deep bass of my Rotties barking and was terrified but we got through the flea bath and she quickly learned her new brothers would tolerate all manner of unkind behavior from her.

Honey Lulu is no fan of costumes or parades. She loves people but generally has no use for other dogs. She is extremely reactive and to this day will flee the area if she sees a flyswatter. Her noise phobia is worsening with age and she requires Trazodone for severe panic attacks.

She regularly smacks me in the face with her bear claws and goes in for the hard boop without warning.

On the other hand, she loves her brother and will go into Sherman’s bedroom in the middle of the night so he can accompany her to the backyard for potties and a perimeter check. Before my bare foot found its way inside an angry pitbull’s mouth, she ran a 5K with me nearly every day.

She travels well and has assured me she is ready for our move to Mexico.

Today, I celebrate 10 years with the ultimate hall monitor. She’s a pushy broad but I love her.

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I do love a challenge!

I listed my house last Friday and received a full-price offer two days later. My dogs were at work with me half of yesterday due to the buyer’s inspection. Assuming nothing goes horribly awry, we’re looking at closing on October 15. I need a drink.

Packing should be super simple because I’m only taking the absolute essentials that will fit in my Jeep. Family heirlooms and photo albums are going in storage. My realtor will facilitate the sale of everything else. Should be pretty easy, right? It’s *so* easy I have chest pains every time I walk into the bedroom I use as an office. That’s where the paper lives. ALL. OF. THE. PAPER. I didn’t go through the Great Depression so why am I like this?

My dogs and I are getting every single appointment imaginable out of the way before we leave for Mexico. Annual physical exam, dental cleaning, fall veterinary checkup, labs, eye exam, mammogram, Jeep checkup…OMG. Mexican auto insurance. Bet you didn’t think about that one! My Sling account has to be cancelled because I can’t use it outside the US without using a VPN and I don’t care enough to worry about that. Anyone know if you can just convert your Amazon Prime account to the Mexican version? I’ll be looking into the best option for that as well. What mail forwarding service should I use? I have to switch dog food because my dogs’ bougie brand is unavailable south of the border. What will I do without Chewy???

I’m getting super stressed about the drive through Baja. Depending on which route I take, it could easily be more than a 26-hour drive. That’s stressful by itself. Then factor in the foreign country/language component and the stress level increases just a smidge. Then remember I’ll be doing this with two large dogs and the stress level increases more than a smidge. There’s a very real possibility that I will be juggling all of this alone.

*RED ALERT*

In the three plus years I have had Sherman, he has never done his good boy potties while on the leash. The last time I drove to Kansas (14 hours one way), Sherman refused to take care of business until I sat down on my mom’s patio and he could finally relax. He did the same on the drive back to Arizona. He doesn’t care about the beauty of the park, the softness of the grass, or the shade from the trees; He’s holding it until he feels comfortable. I lack confidence in my ability to chill out enough for him to work with me. Lulu, however, will potty anywhere other than Hatch, New Mexico.

The timing of all of this is critical. I have to be out of the house prior to closing but may need to be in the area for a couple days around that time to take care of housekeeping items. My dogs do not understand the concept of couch surfing. If my employer refuses to allow me to work remotely but is slow to recruit my replacement, I will need to process payroll the day before closing from somewhere. All I need is WiFi but people have feelings about things. Ugh…feelings.

Have I mentioned my therapist is still out of the country?!?

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Mexico or Bust

This is not a drill. Initiating panic attack sequence in 3…2…1…

I signed paperwork to list my house yesterday. It is being photographed in less than an hour and the listing will go live tomorrow. My realtor told me if a home in my zip code and price range stays on the market longer than 10 days, there’s something wrong with the property. Way to keep a girl away from the ledge!

Moving is always stressful but I’ve done it a million times. I have never moved to a foreign country, however. I have certainly never moved two large dogs to a foreign country. My anxiety this morning is at about a 7 for the first time in several months and my therapist is out of the country until the end of September.

Last night, I moved some items which must be kept forever into a storage unit and that is what I think made it really real. I’m not entirely certain why I still have my grandmother’s roller skates in the original box but I do. They should probably go to a cousin with children but I’m the only one who grew up actually using them. I doubt anyone else in the family would want them or even understand why I have been dragging them around from state to state for the past 20 years.

I’m excited about unloading the majority of my belongings. It feels like they have begun to own me and it’s time to let all of that go. My problem is with my great-great-grandmother’s china. An engraved pewter mug that belonged to a great-great-uncle who died as a toddler. Items which had been displayed in the family museum. For whatever reason, my grandmother thought it was a good idea for me to have these things and I still agree with her after all these years. But as God is my witness, my antique knife rest collection is not going to Mexico.

There are a million decisions which will have to be made in a relatively short time frame and I’m really feeling that right now. What am I doing with the proceeds once my house sells? Will my employer allow me to work remotely? If not, where do I move my 401(k) funds? Do I fully embrace the digital nomad lifestyle? How much money do I really need to live comfortably in Baja? My dogs’ food is unavailable in Mexico so what will I feed them? Do I keep my cell phone plan? Why is Babylon Berlin unavailable on Netflix when I log in from Mexico and how do I get around that if/when a new season is released? These are pressing issues.

My strategy for today is to focus on the next item on the list. I’m breathing. I’m doing yoga. I’m acknowledging it’s normal to feel anxious about this whole process while also feeling like I want to load my dogs up into a scene from The Grapes of Wrath this very instant. Mexico or bust.

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