I’m still in the process of moving. Though I’m purging a lot of stuff, there’s still much being kept. It’s slow. It’s arduous. It’s torture.
And my Popeye muscles are really being tested. If my forearms bulk up like the spinach-eating sailor, I swear, I will get anchor tattoos.
You heard it here first.
Moving is awwwwwful. In my version of hell, people just move from one place to the other and back, over and over again. But once the last box is hauled into your new home and you’ve had a good night’s sleep, the fresh, new energy rushes in, and it’s exhilarating!
Breathe! XO
P.S. – if you come back to class with big forearms, I’m gonna hold you to that tattoo proclamation. ;o)
Thanks for reminding me of the big picture, Nicole. Light is shining at the end of this moving tunnel and I can hardly wait to step into it fully! Also, you’ve got a deal on that forearm ink…