The Neighbor

I wake up in my beautiful bedroom with a smile on my face, the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains and falling gently across my skin. For a moment, I feel absolutely glorious, almost like I am the star of some perfect movie. Then I turn my head and see my husband still sleeping, completely spread out across the bed as if he owns every inch of it. I roll my eyes before quietly getting out of bed and making my way to the bathroom. I brush my teeth, take a quick shower, and slip into my robe, already thinking about how peaceful the morning feels.

Just then, my alarm rings, breaking the silence. I glance toward the bed, and somehow, my husband is still sleeping. I stare at him for a second, wondering how on earth anyone can sleep through that noise. Then it hits me. Oh my God. Today is moving day. We are moving today! The movers are supposed to arrive any minute, and we still have some of the leftover things to pack. How could I forget? Thank God I already packed most of our belongings into boxes yesterday, or we would be completely finished.

I rush over to the bed and shake my husband's shoulder. Nothing. I shake him again, but he barely moves. "Kaelis," I whisper. Still nothing. I take a deep breath and try again, this time louder. "Kaelis!" His eyes finally open, and he looks at me sleepily. "Yeah?" he mumbles, as if I am the one disturbing him for no reason. I stare at him in disbelief. "We are moving today," I remind him. He blinks at me for a moment before finally sitting up, and I can tell from his expression that he had completely forgotten too.

Before I can say anything else, I hear crying coming from the other side of the room. My one-year-old daughter has woken up, and she is not happy about it. "Oh, great," I mutter under my breath, hurrying over to her. I scoop her up from her crib and hold her against my chest while she continues to cry. I gently pat her back, trying to calm her down, but my mind is already racing through everything that still needs to be done. The boxes. The clothes. The kitchen. The bathroom. The movers. And now a crying baby.

"Can this day get any more stressful?" I whisper, looking toward the ceiling as if someone up there might actually answer me. My daughter finally quiets down a little, resting her head against my shoulder. Behind me, I hear Kaelis getting out of bed, and I turn to see him standing there, still looking half asleep. "You need to start packing," I tell him. He looks at the boxes scattered around the room and sighs. I don't even blame him. There is so much left to do, and we don't have much time.

I look around our bedroom one last time, taking in the familiar walls, the bed, the little things we have collected over the years. Soon, none of this will be here anymore. We are leaving this house behind and starting somewhere new. I should feel excited, and part of me does, but right now, all I can think about is how badly I want everything to go smoothly. Then I hear a vehicle outside. I freeze. "Please don't tell me that's the movers already." Kaelis looks at me, then toward the window. We both know what that means. Moving day has officially begun.