I realized that all these years, I had been dreading a giant toad, lurking offshore, waiting to suck me under and drag me out to sea.
We close on our new house this Thursday.
Everyone keeps asking when we are moving.
“Sometime after May 8th,” I keep responding.
Normally something as enormous as packing up a four-bedroom house and moving (even three miles away) would be ridiculously stressful to me. You know me. I can hardly take my entire family on a road trip to Tennessee without planning out the packing situation for days in advance. (Don’t even get me started on airplane travel.)
I realize I haven’t posted in over a month.
I also realize that my very last post was lamenting some bad news about a house that I wanted but we didn’t get.
I will now admit that I was doing that thing where I take the high road and try to convince myself that everything is just the way it is supposed to be and I was forcing myself to pretend like I was walking in the direction of acceptance.
The UnderToad 