Ok, so, I’ve moved to our dream home, as described in the last post. Everything has changed, right? I promised myself that things would change. Life would be more laid-back. My stress level would be way down. I’d have more time for exercise, for myself, for preparing and eating simple, healthful foods. I’d cultivate a vegetable garden. I’d do home canning, and make my own soap. I had a fantasy of rural life.

Some of it has definitely panned out. I’m eating locally laid eggs from the shop beside my youngest’s hippie pre-school. We’ve purchased pastured poultry, which I roasted with rosemary picked from the front yard, and later used to make chicken stock. But, in other ways, I’m reminded that I’m still the same person, with the same issues I’ve carried around all along.

As we unpacked some boxes last weekend, I came across a lot of pictures of myself at various ages. I looked at them carefully, assessing myself and thinking carefully about where I was, mentally, at those times, and about what was going on in my life. In almost every case, I’d think back to the time when the picture was taken and remember that I’d thought of myself as too fat. In fact, in a lot of the pics, I was pretty hot.

The experience encouraged me to work on a weight loss program, so I joined a local center (won’t advertise them here, but it involves buying a decent amount of food from the company weekly) and set to eating properly. I’ve got mixed feelings about the program, because it involves a lot more processed food than I would like to have in my diet, but the bottom line is that it is a super-easy way to have guidance on what (amounts and general food groups) I should be eating, to lose weight.

The first few days went great, and a mid-week visit to the center (for a photograph and measurements) had me down a couple of pounds, already. I was psyched. So, why, then, when I went in today for a real weekly weigh-in, was I UP a pound? I can only attribute it to my screwed-up brain — something that has not changed, despite the move.

I’m still examining exactly what happened, but, it seems like, the last few days, I’d become enveloped by a strong urge to eat something — and not the salad or fruit or vegetables I’m “allowed” as part of the program. Then, I’d warm up a tortilla with cheese or pour myself a bowl of cereal, and eat it dutifully, as if that inner “voice” had ordered me to do so. I wasn’t even hungry, and I knew it.

I think it was some measure of loneliness, some feelings of self-pity, and a sense of being overwhelmed (I am caring for 2 kids + the house by myself, for much of the time, as DH hasn’t yet joined me full time here). I haven’t been exercising, yet, so I don’t have the mental-health benefits of that to draw upon. Whatever the reasons for last week’s setbacks, here I am again, starting afresh and feeling better. Yes, there are things that haven’t yet changed… but I CAN change them, slowly, over time. And I will.

Leave it to me to buy a house online. They laughed when I bought a couch, a car, and pretty much everything else in my life after only squinting at it on a computer screen. But a house?

Last Thursday night, everything seemed dark. We’d previously found a house we loved, which would meet our needs really well and was in our price range. I’d already started mentally repainting the walls and arranging the furniture. I’d issued invitations for friends and family to come stay in the guest room. But, before we could make an offer, someone else jumped in first. We made a last-ditch attempt, but by Thursday night, it was clear there was no hope of securing this dream home.

Overcome by hopelessness, I scanned and scanned the online real estate listings — hoping to cheer myself up with the promise of other possibilities. Things seemed pretty bleak. I’d already seen, and rejected, most of the listings in our range. Then, one new one came up that looked gorgeous, and I couldn’t believe it was in, or near, our price range. The place even had access to a wet-weather creek, and the current owners had set up a hammock and a fire pit on its banks. Hello, dream home #2!

I spent much of Friday poring over the listing (when I was supposed to be working), doing Google Maps satellite searches, and imagining myself lying in that hammock by the creek while the kids swung on a rope-swing and plunged into the crystal clear water (after they learn how to swim, of course). I became convinced that we needed to make an offer. Immediately. Before someone else snatched it up. It had only been on the market 2 days.

So, we did. After consulting with our real estate agent and mortgage broker, of course. The sellers counter-offered. We accepted, right around the time we heard another offer had come in. This time, we were the lucky ones.

Of course, we still haven’t actually seen this place yet, so, tomorrow night, my husband will jet out there to go through it with an inspector. So long as everything passes muster, we’ll let the option period (the period in which we can back out without consequences) expire, and proceed with the purchase. Then, we move, and start our new, radically different life in the country. I’m already scouring the Web for a new couch… and maybe a dining table.

I’ve just ambled back from the post office branch nearest my office, where I became the proud renter of a post office box. In other words, a place to receive our mail when we no longer have a permanent physical address. After May 31, it’s our terra firma in New York City… our only terra firma, period. It’s the most permanent address we’ve got, an 11″ x 5.5″ box in a post office. Strange.

And yet, in the meantime, we’ve got a signed contract to sell my apartment — which will yield the funding to help us on our way across the country. I’m researching the new place. We’re visiting for house hunting, and school searching, in a couple of weeks. As this, this NYC-based life, the permanence of it, starts to fade away, the new place is starting to shimmer, like a mirage, appearing more real and sustantial by the day. Don’t mistake me, there are still plenty of hurdles, the main one being my lack of gainful employment thereabouts. But that will come. I believe that will come.

Looking back at my entries, I realize a couple of things. First, it’s easy to see how busy I’ve been, as my updates have been rare. (The fact that I’ve been focused on things other than diet/fitness has also been a factor.) Also, I really kicked off this whole “we’re quitting our jobs and moving across the country” thing, and have never really followed up.

Yes, it’s still on. It’s just, uh, taking a while. But things are about to speed up pretty darned quickly, it seems.

We got a call from our landlord a few days ago. March 31 to be exact. And he was giving us 2 months notice to get out of the apartment. So, things have been kicked into high gear. We don’t want to sign another one-year lease at another apartment in this city, so that just accellerates our move — though we’ll probably try a short-term sublet and stick around a few extra months.

Do we have a place to live in the Austin area? Nope. Do I have a job? Nope. Details, schmetails.