I’m home. In Michigan. Where I spent the first 18 years of my life. Yesterday, I got my Michigan driver’s license. I’m a resident again, just in time for birthday #38. Moving has been a stressful, insane experience which I’ll talk about in another entry, but it’s over. I’m in the nesting phase right now.
It’s peaceful here. The weather is lovely, the neighborhood is calm, and I’ve had family and friends drop by to help with the new house already. Perhaps the setting has been the reason why I haven’t been dreading my birthday at all. The thought of another year older doesn’t depress or scare me much these days, to be honest. I feel good, I think I look good, and I’m surrounded by people that love me and want to be with me. It’s hard to be anxious when I have that in mind.
Now, I need to get back to work. Moving has taken up most of my time this last month, but now that it’s done, I think I can get back to writing. I hate seeing the finish line and treading in place.