Two days ago my husband and I accepted an offer on our house. In addition to that we decided on Monday that we’d be moving next Monday. Today brought even more excitement as I was called by a staffing agency to come in for an interview for a full-time position tomorrow. And I haven’t even mentioned that we haven’t even started packing. I don’t know what it is. I am reluctant to do so. It’s not like we’re changing our minds about the move, but this “sick” time as a result of surgery has been arguably the least restful period in recent memory.

I’m excited. Sort of. I feel as though if I stay still long enough things will stop as well. I’m not even finished with my current job I have been upset with everything regarding wrapping things up. I’ve been angry at myself for allowing the stresses of the job that I’d ultimately resign bother me so much during and after my surgery. I’m most upset that I will no longer be working for and with my best friend. I’m upset that I’m still very tired.

I’m grateful. Truly, I am. It hasn’t even been a full month since handing in my resignation letter and here we are, moving, selling the house, a possible new job within grasp. I think it’s appropriate that tonight’s poem is about my hubby, Kenrick. He’s been here by my side throughout all of the chaos and assures me he’ll be around for as long as I want him to be!