I just moved in to this house a month ago, and then got this fantastic job offer on the other side of the country, so I haven’t really unpacked. What would be the point when I’d only have to pack up again? The other day I needed a spatula and had to dig through about 10 boxes to find one. Things are scattered everywhere. It’s like camping inside a house.
I never really thought about how much comfort I derive from having a home place until I didn’t anymore. It’s good to have someplace where you can flop down on the bed, kick off your shoes, unhook your bra and just… breathe. (Guys, most of you will just have to take my word for that.) It’s nice to be able to put everything where you want it, even if it’s not in a place that others might find logical. It’s nice to develop a routine and know your way around your neighborhood.
I really have no room to complain. At least I have a roof over my head. I can’t imagine what it must be like to be homeless. How vulnerable you must feel when you can’t ever be safe. How exhausting it must be to never be able to relax. How awful to constantly feel judged and always be on display. Shoot, I get upset when I can’t find my toothbrush.
I am looking forward to moving on to the next place, where I fully intend to unpack every single solitary box. But even that gets delayed one more day, because I arrive on a Sunday, and the realtor won’t come on that day unless I pay an additional $125.00. So I guess I’ll be sleeping in the driveway with my dogs after my 3100 mile drive.
Please check out my Indiegogo campaign and watch the video about my relocation. I could really use your help.
I want to spread out and stay put for a while. As much as I enjoy traveling, it’ll be good to have my own little nest.
There’s no place like home, Toto.
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