It's this move that is not moving.
All of my 'I'm coping just fine' fluttered away and I was left with a closet full of summer and a storage unit full of fall. The sun has been out and it feels like summer, but the dark shadows in the morning remind me the rains will return.
I've got to get to living here. Make decisions. And keep my cell phone on me so I can show my house anytime between 9 and 8.
There's the rub, the dichotomy. Saying it aloud seems to help.
(And this opening to True Blood? It helps too.)