Well, folks… as it turns out, 1214.05 miles do not, in fact, “fly by” when you are dragging everything you own and love in a caravan of three excessively loaded-down diesel vehicles. The following are some very important lessons I learned in preparing for the trip, traveling the road, and recovering from the experience:
- If you’ve decided to chase a job to another state, be certain to get the ball rolling RIGHT AWAY for switching over your licenses and certifications for the job (if required). You’ll be glad you did. Let’s say, for instance, that you are a licensed and experienced funeral director and embalmer. You will still be treated like a green intern when you arrive, so get that damn validation up on the wall ASAP!
- Downsize your crap before you move. Yards sales are a terrific way to get rid of the stuff you don’t want to cram into a moving truck or haul to the dump. You can set up your yard sale stuff out on your lawn the night before it opens, but be sure to throw a tarp over mattresses and other furniture if the weathermen warns of a risk of rain. On the flip side of that coin, you will absolutely shit bricks when you wake up early the next morning, realize you didn’t need the tarps because it didn’t rain after all, but you forgot to shut off the freaking automatic sprinklers and successfully douched the underside of absolutely everything yourself!
- Create a very, very long playlist for your vehicle to keep you awake when you are traveling solo for 33+ hours with the same dreadful view – the rear door of a huge Penske moving truck operated by your husband whose driving skills have repeatedly reaped the wrath of your all-knowing-wifely criticism. Just be prepared to pause that rockin’ playlist when you try to concentrate on following afore-mentioned husband in afore-mentioned moving truck meandering in and out of skinny lanes in rush-hour traffic in Las Vegas.
- Be certain to leave enough room to pump the brakes at least three times for your father who’s following right behind you with a trailer-load of your beloved horses and goats. When your husband slams on the breaks just ahead of you for the shallowest of potholes causing you to stop abruptly, your father will be forced to swerve in order to keep from rear-ending your prized 55 Mercury Monterey trailing behind you. (this may happen a grand total of 3-5 times during your 1214.05 mile trek)
- Feel free to use your horses as your roadtrip nap alarm. That’s right… your horses! It’s easy: when any one of the three caravan drivers starts to get tired, pull over for a nap. The horses in the trailer will let you rest anywhere between 40-55 minutes before they become restless, start kicking the inside of the horse trailer, and waking you up to start driving again.
- But most of all, MOST OF ALL, be absolutely certain that the property management company helping you with housing at your final destination actually puts you in a house with the horse property rights that were explicitly advertised in the rental property advertisement! Go ahead, just try moving your horses and goats into a neighborhood that explicitly hates livestock. Your life will get profoundly more interesting…
…stay tuned for that terrible tale!