I'll save the entire story for another post, but Scott and I are moving again. The story behind this move is a happy one, but...this will be our second move to a new apartment in a span of less than two months. I had assumed that our current apartment would be only a temporary home, but I hadn't counted on it being quite this temporary. I ordered checks with our new address and threw out most of our boxes. I also took a lot of care in organizing and arranging our stuff because I wanted our apartment to be as comfortable and homelike as possible. So by removing things from their carefully chosen places and boxing them up again, I feel like I'm in a state of regression.
When we first moved in, I spent so much time sorting through our belongings and weeding out stuff we didn't need that I didn't think I'd find any surprises when I started packing again. But, when I took out a suitcase to start packing out-of-season clothes, I found my camera, which I thought had gone missing when we came back from Kazakhstan! I can't imagine what sort of brain fart caused me to leave something I use on a fairly regular basis in a suitcase, which I then closed up, and put away in a closet. I can only conclude that moving makes me really ditzy, which makes it all the more scary that I'm doing it again so soon already.