It seems like I should be more... something. I don't know what, but something. Or maybe I expected to be more - perhaps emotional or stressed or something. I guess I thought I'd be all sad and messed up. It's a good thing that I'm not. Mostly I'm tired & I want to be done.
Yep, really tired - of the mess, of the process, of having our stuff divided between two places. Having bread at the old place, but no butter; a microwave and pans, but no food – while at the new place there is butter but no bread and no knives, food but no way to cook them.
Today was the day scheduled to move the bread and the butter, the microwave and the fridge, the food and the tools for cooking the food. That would have been fairly smooth perhaps, but circumstances moved up the schedule for moving the fridge last night instead – which was not very smooth, but is done. So today we are fragmented; at least our kitchen is. By tonight we should be back together – reunited with our food – and our cooking tools. Tonight we should be starting to feel at home in our new home – or is that a little ambitious? I wouldn’t know, never having done this moving thing before.
The light increases outside my window.
Morning arrives – this last morning to enjoy in this place.
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