I’m moved in.
My apartment is a mess of “mostly-done” things.
I already have a sink full of dishes.
The quiet is starting to get unnerving.
One day in, and the loneliness is becoming palatable.
I have so much to do, so many things I *could* do…and yet the exhaustion of the move has made it nearly impossible.
I’m looking forward to going to work tomorrow.
I’m assuming it gets better.