Nine days ago Boomer and I packed the moving van and headed north. Back to where I come from and much further from where Boo does. Four cups of coffee and 6 hours later we pulled up to our new home, without any expectation of moving help and found two strapping lads waiting to move us in. The move-in was not without issue (my box spring is still on the front porch because it won’t fit up stairs) but all in all it was pretty painless and only took about 30 minutes. I was sort of a wreck—the kind that comes from an empty stomach with nothing but coffee lining it—shaky and wild-eyed but otherwise happy to be back in the first place I ever called home. The days since have been a whirlwind. Dog walks, a new job, campouts, intoxicating nights, a particularly fun dinner with three great boys, and a hip-hop show to die for. How very Audrey of me, right?
But it hasn’t been totally without Lucy moments. On the second day of work, I almost quit. And only partly because I’m not sure I like my job. In retrospect I think I almost quit because I was so looking forward to having the shit scared out of me by moving to a place where I had no job and very few prospects. In the end I couldn’t do it. I’m much too much a creature of comfort and being gainfully employed definitely gives a person a sense of comfort. So I’m spending my days trying desperately to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing at said job (very little direction has been given. It’s sort of been a “what would you like to do?” situation) and getting home every night while the sun is still shining. So far, it’s what I wanted. I’m exhausted but happy—I think this may have been totally worth it!
