We had a moving checklist and our plan was set. Now was time for the execution. Step one: move out of College Station. I’ll save you the sap and just say it was bittersweet. The amount of maturation we both acquired there individually, as well as in our relationship, was immense. Now we were finally on our way to hardcore “adulting,” or so we thought.
Moving is a pain in the butt as anyone who has ever relocated knows. Ian had to be out of his house first, so one day was dedicated to clearing out his house. A couple of days after was dedicated to clearing out mine. We also worked as many shifts as we could up until the very last day of residing in College Station; anything to get more Cali money. So lack of sleep and stress made for a great well-mannered packing experience for the both of us! (Did you pick up on the sarcasm?)
After leaving College Station, we lived with our parents for a couple of weeks. We rented a U-Haul, shipped my car, and planned the road trip to California. I was really excited to road trip. Something about being on the road with my significant other and our dogs with everything we had to our names, packed in the little trailer behind us, driving off into the sunset struck me as, I don’t know, romantic. This trip was not. This trip was not even fun. Road trips are not fun. If you like road trips you are of a stronger species than me.
When we had calculated our route it came out to be something like 1,600 miles away. We had planned to stop once in New Mexico and once in Arizona. Three days total of driving. And for some reason, we thought, it would be real swell to knock out the entire state of Texas in one day. My boyfriend drove 14 hours straight. I don’t think I need to emphasize how long that is or iterate how many doggie stops that included. I commend him for that but yikes.