Let's forget that two out of the three floors of my house are in boxes, and I'm not quite sure where my bottle of contact lens solution is. Or that I mistakenly didn't indicate I wanted to keep my spices and a pan or two so that I could cook in our ten day interim before our final move.
Let's talk about last week instead.
Let's talk about Philly.
Philly was fun. A great mix of history, of old and new, of delicious meals, topped with excellent weather.
Only three hours away from our nation's capital, but far enough to truly feel like I was on vacation, the city diverse and a far cry from the suburbs.
I even mentioned to Hubby that its vibe reminded me so much of San Francisco...the neighborhood cultures defined as clear as gridlines on a map, and yet it felt natural and easy to be different.
We could have stayed at least two more days. We barely made a dent in our agenda. But we had to get back, the urgency of our transition just under the surface of all the fun we were having.
And we have been running ever since.
Three days to pack, ten days to move, six HaluHalo family members. We will do it again, with or without pots and pans, probably with Hubby and my nerves frayed to bits, but most importantly--together.