I am overwhelmed.
I have spent the past few days flitting between wanting to read the pile of books that I don’t want to pack, knit the projects rather than take the yarn with me, pack everything I can reasonably pack while leaving a working household for my husband.
There are bags of garbage, piles of giveaways, piles of things to be sold. Stuff everywhere. I really am trying to edit myself. There are so many things I’m not willing to take with me, and every item of clothing I give away goes to a good cause, every book could be sold to pay for the big move, and I happen to know that women’s shelters in the city take donations of beauty products – of which I have an overload, not all of which was purchased by me, it should be noted.
I just want to be settled again. I want to be where I’m going – but that’s a half a year away. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t know what will happen when I get there.
One more time my life is up in the air.