The annual move is complete. As with the last four or five moves, I swear I’ll never do it again.
Except I will.
I won’t regale you with the tortuous days of packing up in Portland, driving one thousand miles, living in hotels for a week while looking at rentals, unloading our belongings into temporary storage when the search seemed futile, taking a few days out of town when the hotels filled and became unaffordable (welcome to fabulous Las Vegas), learning to do everything with crossed fingers, almost crying with relief when the approval call came through, loading our stuff back into a truck in 104 degree heat, unloading it all into our newest home (also in said heat) and collapsing exhausted at the end of it all full of hope that it would at least be a year until we do it all again.
Oops I regaled you.
You’ve been regaled.
P.S. I left out the broken garbage disposal and the rat I met yesterday. You’re welcome.