Somehow, I always manage to forget just how stressful moving is. Right now, I've gone into stressed-out overdrive: my travel order drama has been resolved, but I now have approximately twenty-eight hours to put my house in order before the movers arrive. Eeep. I never even unpacked half my stuff when I got to Riyadh, so at least that is working in my favor... I'm just using the same boxes I had before. Still, it's depressing to see my books and other possessions disappearing for another year. Everything I own in the Kingdom is piled inside masking-tape boundaries on the ground floor of my house, waiting to be sent to Istanbul or Antwerp or DC or Arkansas.
I'm shelling out a little bit of extra cash to ship some things with a private carrier to DC (above and beyond what State will ship there on its own dime), such as some well-loved decorations and certain prized bits of cookware. I wouldn't do this normally, but after this tour I am feeling the need to pamper myself with things I love, so the bizarre, storied accoutrements of my life (a ceramic banana, Oaxacan carved horses, a floor tile stolen from the Silver Spring metro station, a papier-mache demonic cow, a single pink leather-and-steel stiletto) will be taking up residence in DC when I arrive. Assuming I survive this move, you're welcome to stop by to hear the stories behind them all. I promise you'll be entertained!