6710 Grand

My husband has moved on to Chicago. I’m staying here in San Diego until the end of the month or until I find a job. In the mean time, the movers have come and carted away all of our belongings. I’ve saved a few things to make this last month more liveable. I kept one of our TV’s, the VCR and a DVD player. A tea kettle, a set of silverwear, a cookie sheet and two skillets that I plan to toss when I leave (they’re falling apart anyway), a trash can, an air mattress, blankets and clothes. I also have a few books and of course, my kitties to keep me company (the movers wouldn’t take them—we tried). I thought I had everything I needed. The refrigerator was still full of food, and all things I liked and should be eating. Orange juice, eggs, milk, bread, cheese, a frozen pizza, pasta, and a few random things that I should have made use of when I was still cooking for two—a block of tofu, a box of spinach, a jar of jalapenos, and an unusually large amount of spicy mustard. Oh well. My...

My mother says I'm nomadic. I think she's right. Aside from growing up, I haven't ever stayed long in one place. One summer in college, I moved every six weeks, from one dorm to another. During my five years at SLU, I lived in four different dorms, two different apartments and two different houses. After college, I spent only two years in Kansas City. Now, after three years in San Diego, I'm moving again. Nick has been transferred to Chicago. We're packin' up! Actually, we're not. His company is paying for EVERYTHING. They gave us a lump sum of cash to pay for 30 days of temporary housing, food and rental car, hired movers to pack us and ship all of our crap...uh, valued posessions... and towed Nick's car. Our new home is in a little village called Downers Grove, Illinois. It's very midwestern. If you've never been to the Midwest, you can't possibly understand that term and I can't possibly explain it to you. You'll just ...