The Story of Nerves

DSC_0017{miel et cannelle}

Once upon a time there was a princess. This princess was mildly calm, a little neurotic and very controlling but she made lots of good food so boys sometimes liked her. She lived in a beautiful castle on the third floor of an alright castle with a very handsome music making prince who often danced to Queen with her in the living room, and knew that “Don’t Stop Me” was her favorite duet that wasn’t really a duet.

One day with a very sad face the boy told her that to be the best of the best music making princes that he would have to move very very far away to go to school, in fact, 5000km away from the perfect castle with the beautiful sunlight that she loved so very much. And even though the kingdom she lived in was so perfect and filled with things like chocolate and blue cheese covered steak, a shop full of silver slippers and the only dressmaker she ever really loved; she loved him more than all of those things and also knew that there was online shopping. So after many arguements, and many tears, and many nights of staring woefully out her window, the princess began to pack her things to move at least 6 hours closer to France. Or that’s what he told her. It worked.

This princess had among her talents  an ability to chew bubblegum and kick ass, though she was frequently out of bubblegum. So she was not afraid of the task of moving her little home across many many kilometres to a place by the ocean, in fact, knowing she would be near the “warmest waters north of South Carolina” motivated her more than a little. She had many visions of trading in her city slicker gowns for warm sweaters and a golden retriever named Jack, and she began to get very excited.

Now the princess had waged many wars against evil offices of the registrar, unfeeling and sanctimonious cell phone czars, irritable tailors and foul mouthed baristas. But never had the princess waged a war of attrition against time. This act of inching forward with moving companies, letters of resignation and  forwarding addresses? How could she  feel efficient when the only battle she was waging was  against  a faulty online hotel room booking system? Unlike any other time, there was too much of this time. There was too much time to plan. It was.. calm.

There was nobody to hear her whooping war cries except a startled liquor store clerk who was reticent to give her all the boxes they had. She had nobody to command while she weilded her all powerful blackberry, instead she stood in her living room in her darted big girl pants and waved it about as though conducting a symphony, really, it was imaginary movers. The very handsome prince had expertly divided the tasks so as not to overwhelm the increasingly nervous princess who kept asking questions like ‘Do you think they have this coffee creamer there? Maybe we should take some with us. What about the Gap? Should I buy extra pairs of pants? What about this beer.. we should take a cooler full right?”. Her tasks were finished, and this made her nervous.

The princess was not ok with this.

She was  afraid that she was going to forget something and was living in a world of half lost and half found lists. The prince kept finding bits of scrap papers with royal hieroglyphics stating “GRANT PARK CHICAGO DON’T FORGET ANISH KAPOOR” and “DO THEY HAVE CHIMAY BLUE CAP?” and had found multiple printed maps on how to get around Fargo, North Dakota. He was a little bit afraid that he would soon be driving across the country in a car fully loaded of miscellany and slim cut Gap Khakis with a crazy woman by his side chugging Chimay Blue Cap and bawling.

The princess was very nervous. Nervous that this was her first really big test as an adult, and that forgetting to bring a cell phone charger or book a hotel in Winnipeg would indicate that she really wasn’t ready for a golden retriever named Jack, and that she would forever bear the scrutiny of people who asked “Did you see the Cloud Gate sculpture in Grant Park?” and she would have to hang her head and say no, I’m not grown up enough to plan those things. Because, she would explain, I had too long to get ready, I made too many lists, and I was really, really afraid.

The princess was not ok.



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11 responses to “The Story of Nerves

  1. I’m about to make a move that will uproot me in much the same way from my current life. Not easy, no. Highly terrifying, oh yes. But I think awesomeness translates to any and all locales, and you and your prince are going to be very, very okay!

  2. but i think she will be as soon as she gets going! best of luck.

  3. Aww I’m sorry you’re stressed dear. At least you get to be a princess!

  4. I’m so sorry that you’re having trouble fighting through this- it seems like it’s one of those experiences that you have to let wash over you and carry you away in its own time, while clutching to your lists as you can. You guys will get through this in fine form- and more than that, you’ll have fun.

    And if you’re not ready for Jack for a while, you can borrow Ash for a warm up- he’s the moderately bad one with the tall ears.

  5. Frustration and sadness are the way to know you’ve been really happy, and that you care about something.

    I was frantic with worry about my younger brother’s illness when I told a friend that I wish I didn’t care so much….it just made things hurt. She gave me a hug and said “caring is how you know that you are alive and capable of love. Think of the alternative.”

    Life is a series of adventures, and being apprehensive and sad and excited all at the same time is natural – you’ll get there. And realize that you can love something you left and love something new and all will be well.

  6. This is truly delightful, charming and intelligent writing. I loved reading this.

  7. can i send you something that will warm your heart a little?

  8. L

    I love you. That is all.

  9. I am sending you all my hugs! :*

  10. thebeardedlady

    Your writing is lovely. Good luck.

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