I'm sitting on the floor dreaming of coffee to wash down the Romen noodles I had for breakfast. They were the warm, comfort food I was craving, and the only food on the counter.
We had a successful move (okay, well mostly successful, yes, we still have one or two car's of stuff to hall).
Last night we went back to the apartment in Edmonds and I cried. Despite it's strange layout I loved that place, it felt like home. Now we're living in a city that I barely know, except the street that gets me back to Edmonds, and I feel a little lost.
I think we're supposed to be here, but it hasn't felt like we're home - like being on a diet and trying to fit into the next size down - those size 10 jeans are so comfortable!
So that's how I am, Romen injested, wishing for coffee and my size 10 apartment. Also, I'm glad Comcast came yesterday.
Now...french press, where did I pack you?