not again

Yes again. Moving. I ask you.
Of course in times like these, when house moves happen once per quarter, I turn as usual to tea.
Green tea today. I have drunk so much of it I'm exuding antioxidants. Of course, the dramatic, awful moves (and this was another one) happen interspersed with visits to friends to pour out tales of woe and heartbreak, and tea is involved, of course, then as well.
This is a difficult moment as I have poured out the tale of woe and heartbreak so many times that I'm all taled out. Of course, I don't have anything else to talk about other than I saw a wonderful house staffed by a man with green eyes, white teeth and a gentle, intelligent way of being. I won't move into his house but it was wonderful to meet him. My friend Sharla - there aren't words for her. She is a friend with the power to realign your world when it has slid out of kilter without you knowing. We try so hard to be perfect, all of us, and we never will. Isn't it nice, though, that we try?
Sips some more tea.
Sharla and I agreed that it's nice to be a wanderer. But that there comes a time when you need to interface with the world and its clocks, and other people and their concepts of time. Moving house is a dreadful time but it is also a clean time when you can leave a bad environment and move forward. Sometimes it's good to be gone and then again sometimes it's nice to stop running. Or so people tell me.