The actual "moving" part is finished.
On Sunday, my husband brought the absolutely last load of items from the old house to the new one. That night, we split a bottle of champagne. It was impossibly romantic.
What amazes me is that two exhausted people in extreme physical pain, surrounded by mountains of packing boxes could manage to get the cork out of the bottle, much less sip romantically.
We estimate being fully unpacked in March.
Of 2008.
I was 18 years younger the last time I moved. Like most people, I feel as if I did not truly appreciate my youth or how fleeting it would be.
Gevalia's French Roast with a splash of Baileys Irish Cream makes me introspective....
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Some days, it's not even worth chewing through the restraints.
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