Descriptive Essay About A Moving Day

I didn’t want to have to leave my friends in Nashville and be forced to make new ones in Atlanta. I didn’t want to get used to another new house or another city. I just wanted to stay in the only place I could call home. As the day of my departure approached, I thought of running away, so I wouldn’t have to move and my dad could keep his job in Atlanta. Thankfully, I never went through with it. When the day finally arrived, I was everything but ready. My mom had picked my brother up from school early to help move boxes out of the house and into our car while the movers haled broken down beds, and other pieces of furniture into their industrial moving trucks. Once everything was packed into trucks, paper work was finished and dogs were loaded in the car, we began the long 4-hour trip to Atlanta as dusk made its way to the sky. The trip itself was a calm one, we managed to avoid any major accidents on the highway, and we were traveling around 8 o’clock so the traffic had died down. As we drove I couldn’t help but think back to the friends I left and what was to come

You shoot up from your warm bed. You rub the sleep from your eyes and glance at the clock, which strikes 6:10. It seems as though your heart skips a beat. The cozy blankets try to keep you enthralled in their warm grasp as you jump from their reach. The bus to Buffalo leaves in twenty minutes and you should’ve woken up an hour ago. You frantically toss on your oversized sweatshirt and leggings and race to the kitchen, in hope that you have time to sneak a quick bite to eat. As you run in, you see that your mother has made you two slices of toast, crisp and crunchy, spread with a thick layer of creamy, melted butter. While running around the house, munching on the perfectly toasted bread, you quick grab your swimsuit and bag, which

I woke up in my comfortable bed and walked downstairs. I walked to the door that leads outside and opened it. I could smell the fresh air of the country. It has been a week since I moved from New York. I use to live in a crowded suburb in New York City where I couldn’t smell the fresh air. Now that I moved to South Carolina with my wife and two children, I think my life is taking a turn for the better. I live right on the coast, so I also get an excellent view of the ocean from my porch. I continued to breath the fresh air for a while longer. After about five minutes of standing there, I went inside and closed the door. The rest of my family was still upstairs sleeping. I went to the kitchen and started to cook breakfast. The smell of freshly

The day I found out I was moving, my first reaction was relief, for up until that point, I had concluded that the reason my parents were so serious, was because I’d done something wrong. However, as soon as that thought disappeared, another one replaced it. Why were we moving to DC? We were perfectly fine in the neighborhood that we lived in. Slowly, I began to realise that I did not like the idea of moving. I didn’t say this outloud because I was still confused. Was this a joke? Instead, I put on a bright smile and reacted as if they told me that they were going to throw a party. For the rest of the day I did my best to ignore the conversation we had, to ignore the fact that we were moving. It was not until

Occasionally, I walk home from school. It was a simply walk until I started walking in my neighborhood. I try not to listen to the cars passing me, I try not to listen to the people leaving their homes, I try not to listen to the bird sounds, I try not to listen to the extremely loud criping every time I walk past a tree. As I walk, I like to think about what my mom has cook for my siblings and I. My mom doesn’t tell us what she makes until after she is done and it is a surprise whenever I get home. Since I was walking, I was anxious to get home.

It was five A.M. when the alarm on my phone went off. The sound of birds and waves in the morning is supposed to be a calming effect, but really it just pissed me off knowing that it was this early that I actually had to be awake. My anger grew considering that I had to get up to see a doctor that would inevitably draw my blood—which is the one thing you could do to me that would cause me to lose my mind in the short minutes of anticipation that a needle would be plunging through my skin.

At 8:33 am, the alarm clock began blaring. As soon as I woke up I could feel my heart racing. As I got up slow, I found myself daydreaming hoping this place of service would close down for some strange and on reasons, I knew this wasn’t going to happen, so I drove myself out of bed with fear and excitement both at the same time.

My life has always revolved around moving and change. I mean it is understandable because I am a military brat. I can remember my first move it was a drastic one. We went from California’s cool winds to the snows of New York. It was a wonderful experience while it lasted, but than my dad came back from deployment and we had to pack up our bags and leave.

Jolting upright in bed I searched for the button to turn off this annoying alarm. Not being able to find it I yanked the plug from the wall finally ending the loud shrieking noise. I lay back down and pulled my bright blue covers over my head. The brightness of the sun lightly shone through the comforter, warming the places where there wasn't a shadow. Ughh!! It's Saturday and I have nowhere to go to get away. Scrunching up my face I thought hard about what I could do.

The willow tree outside my window swayed to the beat of the windchimes on the porch. The sun softly revealed itself through the morning haze. My bed is soft and familiar at this time in the morning. But Mack insists that she has an emergency and needs me there. This could be nothing, or it could be something. I argue with myself for a couple minutes, just go back to sleep Mack will be fine. But then, when I close my eyes again, I think to myself, what if Mack is in serious trouble? I guess this means I am going to have to get out of bed. I roll out and barely land on my feet. I begin to debate on whether it is worth it to get ready, but I realize that I do not want to argue twice with myself this early in the morning. Mack will just have to enjoy my stretched out grey V-neck and blue cotton shorts.

Sometimes when you wake up on the weekdays, most people act like they can’t get up or is just still asleep. I, on the other hand, act like I’m waking up. I try not to let anyone know that I don’t sleep at night, because I have convinced everyone I sleep fine. I don’t stay up because I am doing things that I’m not supposed to do, or anything of the sort. I can’t sleep because of my brother. I don’t have a grudge against him or anything, but he snores. I mean, it would be pretty hard for anyone to sleep when he snores so loud like he was trying to warn us of a tornado. I’ve gotten used to it though. Some things like this can’t be helped. Besides, I’ve got my own problems to deal wi-. I froze. The door slowly creaked open. “Time to wake up.” My

It's 9:38 on a friday night. Steve just got off of work and is heading to the bar. Steve arrived and headed to the same spot he has been going for years, but before he set down he seen this girl walked by and stopped. She went back to her spot and sat down next to 3 of her friends. Steve sat down next to them and said “may i buy you ladies some drinks?” They just looked at hom for a moment a silence steve thought to himself that this was a bad idea. “We would love to have a drink with you.” Steve gets up to get the drinks And thinks to himself that “This is going really well.” Steve gets back with the drinks and the ladies were just...gone. Steve walks out of the bar expecting to see the ladies but there were none. Steve frustrated decided to call it a night. Steve gets in his 67 Impala revs the engine up and heads home. The next day steve wakes up, grabs breakfast, and decides he is going to hop on a plane and go to a random island. He gets on a plane and sets off to wherever. Steve takes a nap and all the sudden everything is happening so fast BOOM! Steve wakes up seeing blood everywhere and it kicks in, he just endured a plane crash. Blood is everywhere steve is trying to call out but there is no one there. He manages to get up and see people everywhere but none are conscious. Steve realized this means he has to survive by himself. He started searching through people's pockets and their luggage. He didn't find much some food in the back, and a little bit of cash. It was

It was a typical friday night in Middletown as we all stood outside at the park across the street from my house. Jordan’s loud speaker broke the silence in the air as the voices of Jay-Z and Nas shook the streets of New York. For years, we had all agreed that we would hang out at the park and relax together on friday nights. It was a well deserved celebration for the completion of another week of school. At around midnight, we took a break from dancing and headed over to the chinese restaurant. As always, I ordered a number twelve. Sesame seed chicken with fried rice. The owner, Carlos, would recognize me every time I walked in and start my order without me saying a word. Little did I know then, what started off as a typical friday night would turn into a harsh lesson that some things in life can never be replaced .

The light of the new morning sun shines through the gaps of my ivory lace curtains. I can see the almost too tiny to see specks of dust floating gracefully in the streams of light, it’s almost like the dust never moves, never settles. A quartet of petite sparrow’s perch outside my window singing a welcoming song. As I sat up in bed a waft of freshly ground coffee entices my senses. I open the curtains, look out at the frost-bitten grass, the glassy lake across the way and the white gradient fog that has engulfed the tops of the pine trees. Slipping my feet into a pair of wool-lined slippers, I grab my robe and welcome my husband, Caleb, for breakfast. We scarf down our eggs and homemade spiced apple oatmeal so we can get a head start on our day. The warmth of the heater keeps me distracted, the warmth first thing in the morning is like settling into a tub of hot water after a day in the cold; it is hard to resist. Eventually I throw on my clothes and accessorize myself with what seems like a never-ending list of winter must-haves; a long olive-green winter coat, a tan plaid scarf, a pair of wool socks that line my brown leather boots, a pair of gloves, and to top it off, a olive knitted beanie.

Each Friday morning, during football season, I wake up with butterflies in my stomach. I wake up knowing that I have a football game that night. Football Fridays, for me, are usually filled with excitement, stress, anxiety, and nervousness. I wake up and put my jersey on as I think about the long stress and excitement-filled day I have ahead of me. The day starts off with the elementary halls favorite event, the Colonel Walk. Every Friday morning the football team lines up behind the band, cheerleaders, and dance team to walk the very halls we did every school day in elementary. We shake hands, high-five, and hug the students that look up to us as upperclassman and the teachers that helped make us the young adults that we have become.