It's official, I'm done moving. It only took 3 weeks. No really, 3 full weeks of packing and moving boxes and unpacking. The process has been overwhelming and all consuming and has left the boy and I completely drained. Especially him as I, being delicate like a flower, couldn't lift roughly 75% of the boxes.
But here I am. In my new place. And for the first time in 2 years, I am living alone. Is it wrong for a 27 year old to want a night light?
Now excuse me while I try to find my bed under all the boxes.