My living room is already stacked high with brown boxes, filled with books and linens and some art and the beginnings of the kitchen stuff. I’m hoping that by the end of the day, there will be a lot more filled boxes and a lot less stuff on shelves and in cabinets.
Moving is always a pain in the tuchus, and this time is no exception. We’ll be subletting for a couple of months while we find a place that we’ll actually want to live in, so I’m packing knowing that I might not see my stuff until as late as September. With the books, particularly, I’m finding this amusingly difficult. I have a close relationship with my library, and I have to figure out what (minimum) number of books I’ll ship to have on hand over the summer and which ones (most) to pack. I just packed my Shulchan Aruch, and I keep wondering–well, what if I have a halakhic emergency?? What if I have to look something up??? (Never mind that I subscribe to Spertus and thus have access to the Shulchan Aruch and a whole lot more there. Still.) And as I go through some of my other books, I’m having all these great ideas for teaching–I could plan such a great lesson around that essay there! But it’s time to let it go–the books will be waiting for me when I get settled, and teaching brainstorming can commence after that. I’ve got plenty of ideas that can last me in the interim.
It’s all a little surreal, still. I’ve been in LA for a long time, and I still haven’t totally registered that I’m leaving for good this time. In some ways, it feels like just another organization for another summer away or year in Israel. I’m trying to make time to see the (many) people that I adore, but there are too many people and not enough time. There’s never enough time with the folks you love the most, really. I’m just grateful that I have them at all.