holy crap! moving is a bitch!

It seems we've just been trading one set of stresses for another. We've given up living out of suitcases and using a square of kitchen counter as an office and getting takeout for dinner every night because we didn't have a pot to cook in.

Now, we're sorting through mountains of stuff that has been in storage during our nomadic last three years, figuring out what to keep, what to throw into the Dumpster that is thankfully still in our back yard, what to sell at a yard sale, deciding how much dank boxed-too-long-in-a-garage smell is too much to tolerate in, say, a much loved text book from college or a pair of underwear.

And then, because I'm Jewish and because I'm me, instead of just enjoying it here, I walk around waiting for something to go wrong; it all seems too good to be true. So I was greatly relieved when, after the heat went on or the first time two nights ago, the smoke alarms went off and the entire house began to reek of burning plastic.