I’m sure this will all come out in therapy years down the road, when I’m trying to find the source of my particular strain of crazy. First, it belongs in here, for you dozen or so to read .

I have changed my paradigm again. I am a blue-blood yankee, dragged to Florida at the tender age of 10 and forced to integrate with people of all social classes and races (in my hometown, where I was dragged from, there wasn’t a lot of diversity of social classes or race). Then, three years ago, my husband and I moved back to the North. I, as expected, took to the major change quite easily and gleefully. Duck —> water. My husband, not so much. Finances forced us out of the area, and here we are, back in the South. North Carolina may have “north” as part of its name, but it couldn’t be more southern here.

So here I go again, trying to find the ground again, figure out how to put roots in here. I know it’s better for our family, for the kids. Better job atmosphere for Allen, milder climate. No shoveling snow. More affordable housing, etc. The list is long on the plus side. And it’s damn beautiful here.

My brain knows this move was the right choice. I just need to convince the rest of me.

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