I just realized I’ve lived in this house for nearly two full years. That’s a first in my married life – we usually move every 12 to 18 months. I know our parents and my sister and whoever she’s currently dating appreciate that we’ve stayed put for awhile… but I’m not so thrilled. This house is very cute, don’t get me wrong. It suits our needs quite well – perfectly, one might say. Well, one might say that if it were clean, if we didn’t have three litter boxes in our guest bathroom, and if the guest bedroom and office were usable. But technically speaking, the bare bones of the house fulfill our needs just fine.

So why do I want to pack up and move somewhere else? I tend to have a burst of energy after moving into a new place that allows me to arrange furniture and our multitudes of stuff and get everything where I want it to be, and things start clean. I’ve lost all motivation in this house. Only with my Mary Poppins-like Sista’s help do I feel like the job is within my abilities. Otherwise, I’m beginning to feel a bit hopeless. Especially since it’s been six months since Sista came to help me clean… and there have only been spurts and fits of cleanliness between then and now. I need a new space, to start over fresh.

Too bad the housing market sucks and I doubt anyone wants to help me move for the… let’s see… sixth time since I got married! Sigh. I guess I’ll just have to pretend like this is a new house (this shouldn’t be too hard since I still have boxes to unpack in the guest bedroom…) and maybe that will help me out of this funk!

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