Moving Is Not Living

Packers from the moving company are on their way here this morning, and so everything is unplugged except the wifi router. Trash cans are all empty and clean. The place has an echo.

Whenever I move, the purging that comes with packing ignites a spark for simple living. “Why can’t we always live like this?” I wonder. Just a few pieces of furniture, loose items all neatly wedged into clear plastic boxes, roooooom to move around. It’s so, I don’t know, Zen?

Then I hear Meredith upstairs herding those loose items for the third consecutive day, and I realize I don’t have anywhere to place my coffee cup.

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