As I type up this post, I am sitting on a stool in the kitchen, in house my family's lived in for 15 years, which we sold today. This stool is the only chair left in the house, and it's a little too short for the kitchen counter — the only tabletop left in the house. Beside my laptop sits a carton of warm orange juice. We no longer have a fridge. It's so empty in here that my typing reverberates.
But... I'm not typing right now. I typed it yesterday. (Blogger lets you post to the future.) When this post appears, I am doing this:
Ridin' in the backseat with my dog, singin' along with mix CDs that I made for the road.
(ETA: Arrived safe in Pittsburgh!)
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