Jodi, do you have friends where you’re going? I love moving, but I’ve only done halfway across the country, and it was “back home”, so it wasn’t the same as going to a brand new place.
We did Seattle to Iowa in 1990. I kept a journal. It was a nightmare and fun at the same time. We had cars to sell and pets who needed new homes, in addition to everything else.
June 4: Started showing the house.
June 5: Accepted a full price offer on the house, from a doctor. Hey, that was easy!
We had already cleaned up the house, but now we started getting rid of stuff that wasn’t worth moving.
July 9: Appraiser showed up. Buyer having problems with financing.
July 12: Took pictures of Buddy (the dog) to the vet (we had to find a home for him). The cats were already spoken for.
July 13: Took Mama cat to new home. 
July 15: Sold the 1959 and 1964 Pontiacs.
July 20: Moving van came. See, the realtor said back on June 5 that we’d be closing in six weeks, tops, so we scheduled the van. We kept back a mattress, some stuff to cook with, a little TV, two lawn chairs, and personal items. Everything else went to Iowa in the van.
July 21: Took Bonkers (#2 cat) to new home.
July 24: Sister-in-law in Iowa called to say our stuff had arrived. Good thing she had a double garage she wasn’t using for her car.
July 25: Signed closing papers on the house. Lady came to look at Buddy the dog. She liked him. He liked her. Waved bye to Buddy.
July 28: Signed closing papers again – different ones. The buyer is getting a loan from his dad to buy the house. He didn’t have financing!
August 2: Signed more closing papers.
August 3: Picked up the check. Bought new tires for the 1969 Pontiac, a pretty opal and diamond ring, and a camcorder. Packed the car.
Oh, and jammed in with all this were going away parties, leaving a job of eight years, daughter saying goodbye to a boyfriend, Seafair, the Greenwood parade, afternoons saying goodbye to Elliott Bay Bookstore, my brother’s fourth wedding, plus mom calling every day – “You sure you want to do this?” Yeah, mom.
August 4: Pulled out of the driveway. Daughter and youngest son in his bright yellow Toyota pickup, hubby and I in the 69 Pontiac. No cell phones. “Let’s just keep up with each other for the next 1800 miles, all right?” Hahahahahaha.
We got separated crossing Lake Washington. The Blue Angels were practicing, and we got stuck in traffic. We found the kids but not until we got to Spokane. (Yellow’s a good color for a vehicle.)
We drove through to Missoula, Montana, where we slept in the vehicles in a truck stop parking lot. I’d forgotten all about the Sturgis rally. Bikers like motels too, and they plan ahead.
August 5: Made it to Deer Lodge, Montana and found a motel in the early afternoon. Toured the old state penitentiary and played pool in a bar.
We dawdled our way across the country, visited Yellowstone and spent a night in Cody, Wyoming, where I’d like to live someday. Made it to Iowa on August 8 and spent a month living with nice relatives while we looked for a house and jobs.
I didn’t stop twitching until we had moved into our own house, with our own stuff, and until we’d been a couple of days without a phone, because mom was still calling. “You sure you want to do this?”
If I had to do it over again, I wouldn’t have accepted an offer on the house unless I was sure the buyer had financing. Even back then I was too old to sleep on a mattress on the floor.
Good luck with your move. I envy you the experience. 
