It's almost 5 AM. I'm sitting on the floor of a hotel room just outside of Atlanta. Everyone is asleep but me and the cat. I'm worried one of the pets has done something very naughty on the floor, but it may just be coming from the cat box. Or the bathroom. I'm sitting right next to both of them.
Yesterday was strange. I saw both of my parents cry. We're going to be very, very far away from both of them.
I felt a bit melancholy leaving the house. My kids have done a lot of growing in that house and as unhappy as I was at times in it, we do have a lot of memories there. As excited as I am to be seeing that chapter of my life come to a close, there was a slight pain in my chest.
Because we don't have a place in Oregon yet, we're technically homeless. I mean, we could always go back to the house in Florida since (unfortunately) we still own it, but it's totally empty and all of our stuff is on its way westward. This homeless feeling is very weird. In a way it just feels as if we're on a vacation and we'll just be going home in a week or so. And then it hits me that right now there is no home. It's mind blowing.
Jay is awake now so we're going to share some instant coffee. Next stop, St. Louis!