Moving is an overwhelming experience. You take the largest comfort zone in life, your home, and blow it to smithereens then you have to put all the pieces back together. The worst part is there’s no set of directions on how to do this. All the old methods of order no longer apply and you have to figure out a whole new way to do things. It’s hard.

Even writing about moving is difficult. I wrote this nice analogy that compared our new apartment to a balloon but after spending half an hour working on it I came to the realization that it was all backwards. I don’t wanna rewrite it so I wrote this paragraph instead. Ahhh!!

The good news is that *E* and I have slowly expanding circles of sanity and order in each room. The evidence of which is revealed by more and more available floorspace. Most of the furniture is either in place or close to where it’s gonna be. There’s still tons of boxes but they’re clearly labeled, mostly, so we’ve been able to find pretty much anything we need.

There’s a to-do list as long as my arm but I’m determined, with *E* at my side, to put the puzzle of our lives back together. And what a nice life it’s gonna be.

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