Moving

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the cabinets. I thought If I just look at the cabinets and the counter, everything seems normal. I let my mind swim blankly for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked up. Past the kitchen counter was the living room, which was decidedly NOT normal. The couches and chair were gone, blue padding crisscrossed the hardwood floors, and assorted boxes and other furniture awaited loading onto the truck rumbling away in front of my house.

That was two days ago. Now everything I own is currently inside of a semi, which is somewhere between here and there. I'm in a hotel room outside of Nashville with The May Queen and two fairly pissed off cats.

And I'm exhausted.

We have not sold the house, but someone at our new church in Michigan has a house that THEY haven't sold, and are allowing us to live there until we can buy. It all came about very quickly, and I'm still spinning from the flurry of activity that led up to where I am now.

I did get in one fabulous trip into the city with friend, a trip that include dinner uptown, music on Frenchmen Street, a trip to some bars in the quarter I had never been to, and one I had, watching the tourists make idiots of themselves on Bourbon Street, an early morning snack, and a return home at 4:30am. Now THAT'S a proper good-bye to NOLA.

I got in some good farewells with some friends, and just didn't have time to even check in with others, and feel a bit like I skipped town.

I'm excited and sad and basically just emotionally whiplashed, but haven't had much time to actually FEEL anything amid the long list of things to get done.

And now... it's time to sleep.