Which I think should be weirding me out.
Moving in the past has always seemed like an apocalyptic event. Like the world was imploring around the very fragile plans I had developed for my life. Moving to the other side of Town meant the end of my social life FOREVER. In retrospect, and now that I can drive, moving thirty minutes to an hour away really isn't bad at all, and what plans from highschool are still high on the priority list six years later?
Or maybe because moving had always been a mandatory decision.
Or maybe because I get to do fun stuff like this:
We are in Wilton now. It doesn't feel like 'the first two hours of the two week roadtrip across country', it feels like going to Wilton with too much stuff.. which is usually the case.
I bet the feeling will set in later. Probably past Georgia, when the cars aren't covered in Red Sox and Yankees stickers.
Posts
