Relocated - in shifts.

I'm in Savannah, GA. 

It's beautiful. I'm in love with this town.

(That's my current mantra at least.)

I can't lie and say I'm 100% confident with my decision. But I've been well received by old friends. They're gracious, generous and patient. 

I'm terribly heartsick that Banana, my cat, isn't with me in my temporary housing. And I'm a complete wreck without my Hippo and Turtle. They both keep me sane and it's difficult without them physically accessible.

Touring apartments and the city in search of "For Rent" signs is exhausting. Without Pookie's help, I'd live in my car. Seriously, I already pay enough for the damn thing. Might as well live there too. 

I'm excited by the potential adventures and lessons. I'm anxious for new memories and stories. 

In over my head, just where I love to be. 

Moving is an adventure. Like hell.

Moving is stressful. 

Everything you own is under scrutiny. Do you need it? Want it? Do you wanna put together one more fucking box or just throw the shit away??

Moving when you have no plan, even more stressful. 

Do I stay? Do I get a roommate? Do I put an advert on Craiglist and hope I don't get murdered??

Who the hell owns this many pairs of shoes? Where the fuck did this third hand mixer come from? And how do I not make enough money to hire someone to do this for me??

I'm exhausted, cranky and needy. There are VERY few people in my life that can handle me under these circumstances. 

The short list doesn't seem to include a man with muscles, or access to a moving truck... I need a husband. Le sigh.