The Universe doesn’t like Overthinkers who take too long to get shit done.
A Case Study.
“I don’t know how to do this Dey! Packing and moving and all the organizational skills that come with it — my little brain wasn’t built for this, this skillset is above my Sagittarius pay grade!”
“Yeah, true, yeah.” Over in Australia at the other end of the call, Deya lit a cigarette and smiled. “You need a Virgo, you need me!”
“Yes, I need you! Can you come do it for me please?”
I had a flashback of our trip to Lisbon together. Deyta had shown me the list of clothes she was bringing. The color palette was lilac, cream and black. Anything that didn’t fit that color scheme didn’t make the cut.
“I am the expert of packing and moving,” Deyta declared. “I have all the best practices down to a T. You need to pack all the things you use the least now. You need to color code things and keep those categories in a notebook. You need to make a spreadsheet on Excel,” she said excitedly.
“EXCEL??? I can’t DO Excel Dey, never could! For example, when you start a table, are you supposed to start at the very upper left corner, or do you give yourself 5 rows of leeway, plus two columns to the right? But then your table starts on C5 — is that what you want? Nobody taught me these things!”
“Yes they did, remember computer class??”
I wonder if kids these days think it’s funny that we had ‘computer class’ — just to learn the basics of Microsoft Word applications in high school. I imagine kids are literally mining for crypto by age 6 these days. Gosh I’m getting so old and dumb, I need to make sure I’m as charming as I am lazy so I don’t become a discarded elder on the outskirts of society by age 40.
That’s not the point of this blog though. The point of this blog is to accept myself as a dysfunctional adult, especially when my inner circle of friends have set the bar so high.
Wait no, that’s a different blog. The point of this blog is to get advice from people who know how to uproot their lives in a moment’s instance and smoothly transition to the other side of the planet. Literally. Deyta had moved from Borneo to Jakarta to Papua to Australia, with 2 kids. Tika had moved from Bali to Alaska to Hawaii to California. Anita had moved from Bali to Dubai to Australia to Bali.
I’d done a lot of moving myself, but this time it was different. I had never owned this much STUFF.
In my twenties, I never had the desire to settle down and own a bunch of STUFF to call my own. I was fine with not having a TV, or a dining table, or a complete set of silverware. I bought the cheapest Ikea ‘slat’ beds and had no shame explaining to my dates that my bed was broken so careful when you sit— ahh, tried to warn ya — as they fell back, arms flailing.
When I moved back to Bali three years ago, I had every intention to build a home, or at least, a base. I accumulated STUFF so quickly! Then when Yvonne passed away, I accumulated all of her stuff. And our mom’s stuff. Ugh. That’s why this move is not so simple. This stuff that I’m getting rid of has sentimental and monetary value.
I can’t just GIVE all of it away, I need money! I can’t just SELL all of it, I need the memories! I can’t sell it for THAT MUCH, it’s worth so much more! I can’t give it away to THAT person, THIS person would actually really love it. And on and on, these micro-decisions filled up my already mushy brain, until I felt exhausted from overthinking.
I was contemplating which wine glasses to give to Anita and which to sell when I got a video call from my sister Laura.
“Chriiiiis!!!” Tika squealed. She and Laura were sharing a headset, wearing black outfits and standing by a concert stage. They turned the camera around to show me a huge auditorium.
“Oh my gosh hi you guysss!”
They both stuck their tongues out and made rock n roll hand signs to me, and I couldn’t seem to get my fingers to do the same fast enough. They threw their heads back and laughed.
“We’re in LA, I got Tika on my guest list, I have 12 minutes until I have to go on stage!” Laura shouted into the speaker. “Then I fly home tomorrow!”
“I’m so glad you guys finally met up!” I said. “How are you Tik??”
“Yeah I’m good!” She took a breath. There was so much to catch up on. Her life had been turned upside down by an intense beak-up that prompted her to move from Hawaii to the mainland, and I barely knew the details, but this was not the time to talk about it. So I kept it simple and made the conversation about me instead.
“How did you do it!?” I asked. “How did you pack and move all your stuff? I’m really struggling. Did you sell everything or just give it away?”
“At first I tried to sell stuff, but then I just gave everything away. I gave away all my artwork…” Ouch. “But you don’t need SHIT Chris! 5 pairs of pants, 5 tops, that’s it. Just give all your stuff away, seriously, you’ll feel so free!”
Laura was nodding vigorously. “So free,” she echoed.
“I’m going to stay in LA,” Tika continued. “I actually really like it here, I’m gonna stay!” She smiled.
My heart glowed for her. LA was perfect for Tika. She didn’t need to be in nature with the hippies. Tika was an artist, a performer, an entertainer. She needed to be where people could admire her, all the time. She needed a wealthy audience to bask in her starlight.
“I’m so happy for you Tik, I think that’s awesome! Kristina and I will definitely come visit you, I’ll be there soon!” The three of us nodded and grinned awkwardly, because no 3 way video call is ever not awkward.
I attempted one more time to do the hand of the horns as we kissed the screens goodbye. I felt so inspired. I could do this. I just had to pack up my shit and move on to the next stage, like Tika was doing now.
The question was, how? Would I take the Deyta Approach, or the Tika Method?
That night I got a Whatsapp from Singapore Airlines that all flights after March 16th were VTL — Vaccinated Travel Lanes — Only. Including mine.
Well…fuck. It’s not like I never wanted to get the vaccine, it was the bureaucratic requirements for a WNA* — the insane runaround of having to get documents that my Banjar was extorting me for — that had made me decide to simply wait and get the vaccine in the USA instead.
I had three options, cancel that flight, get fake vaccine papers, or move up my flight to before the 16th.
Research mode activated. Okay, fake vaccine papers contact person wasn’t replying. Okay, to cancel the flight, I’d only get a partial refund and it would take 6 weeks. UGHH. Moving up my flight? Free and simple, but what if they made that flight VTL again?
I panicked, I cried, threw a pity party, and cursed the Gods for picking on me all the time. Then I moved my flight up to March 14th.
I had 9 days. I looked around my little house full of stuff. The Tika Method it would be.
*WNA — Warga Negara Asing. Foreign citizen. Yup, a foreigner in the country I was born and raised in, sigh.
