I'm writing this from my desk at home while working, five days before my move, and that is part of the problem. I couldn't really pack up my computer equipment and home office before I worked tonight. But the moment I log out in the morning, I'll be ready to break it all down. Not only will I not work from this home again, but I'll not be working from home much at all going forward. It will be a lovely walk to work from my new place, so there will be no reason to, except for contingency planning.
Currently I have about 1/3rd of my belongings ready to go, and my home office and computer equipment make another 1/3rd. I do have Wednesday night off, and I'm sure I'll have everything of importance ready by the time I leave for work Thursday night. And I did plan for a friend help with a few boxes the next week when I inevitably fail. Moving is hard.
I certainly have some mixed feelings about the move. I moved into half a duplex with friends a little over two years ago. I was surprised to find I felt like I was sort of part of a family. Not a close member with responsibilities, but a small part of it. Then last summer I received a very serious injury from the new four legged member of that family. And the thing is, life moved on for that family. It barely skipped a beat. It didn't for me. I never felt welcome on their side again.
Today I can look into the mirror, and the scars are not all I see. I see them, for sure, but they're no longer all I see. What remains is permanent, but minor. I pride myself on being a logical person, and it's obvious that no one else really sees them the way I do. The physical damage has mostly passed, I'm physically moving on, I know it's time for me to do so mentally. Not seeing him everyday will help.
And on a brighter note, those friends are happy meet me on the way to bowling. After the move, it's reasonable to make it half way there, but the other half wasn't really doable. But my friends agreed to meet me halfway, and bring me with them the other half.