What’s to write about that doesn’t rehash the mundane BS we all plod through? Is there anything as boring as listening (or reading) someone tell you how completely crappy their move was? How they had to make a bijillion trips back and forth and it still wasn’t done? I agree. Let’s skip it.

We’re adjusting to living in several hundred square feet where his inability to fold the hand towel *just so* is a windmill I’m staring at with crazy eyes. To fight or not to fight…when there are bigger windmills on the next knoll.

There are two boxes left to unpack, the contents of which, no doubt, I’ll decide I didn’t need to move in the first place and they’ll get chucked down the trash chute. Procrastination never pays.

I’ve yet to find (or research, really) a recycling center in town, since our new complex has passively shown it’s lack of caring for our sweet dying planet and I now have bags of cardboard, glass and plastic hanging from the pantry door - which does nothing for the aesthetic of our wide open space.

The cats are getting a long better than ever…if only Grayson would not dive bomb us in the middle of the night from the “wall” the bed is up against. Whammo! 3am. Right on The Mc’s groin. Gotta give him points for aim.

The things I missed about the city are coming back in tiny spurts - the sense of community, convenience of everything, even the moving with the intent of sweating (intentionally, with associated attire no less). I’m finally snapping out of my “this isn’t my body - where did this *jiggle belly with wild abandon* come from”-itis and feeling hopeful and impassioned about doing something about it.

I’m this close to being out of debt for the second time in my adult life (woot!), we have vacation planned for week after next, another in the early planning stages, and have shifted our house hunting focus to the likes of condos (which is clearly whacked given the ATL market where condos are as abundant as cellphones and oompa loompas with fake boobies ) because it would mean no yard/chores more time/money for the cabin. We’re still clearly lost with that whole “wtf do we want to do with our lives? What are our priorities? How do we honor them and still leach money off The Man to fund our antics?” thing, but really - isn’t everyone?