All the boxes are unpacked. The house is all put together. Things look nice. The kids are getting settled. I’ve found my way around the neighborhood. Our ward is nice enough. So why do I feel utterly untethered?

Bubbles of panic keep rising to the surface— little breathless pockets of fear and isolation. I know this was where I was supposed to go, and there’s a reason I’m here instead of in SLC or Seattle, even if I’m not sure what it is, so I hold on to that faith. Perhaps it’s just that I have unstructured time for the first time in years. I don’t have a paper looming, or a project due. Perhaps I’ve gotten so used to living in a state of near heart-attack inducing stress, I simply don’t know what to do with a little peace. It’s disquieting.

(There are still things to do- the kids’ school offices open this week for registration. I have to meet with my GW advisor to plan out some grant writing and what to do this fall. I have to get my car registered. The kids want to go to the pool. We haven’t even ventured into DC proper yet. Everyone I know says to wait until the crowds abate with the end of summer, and after Udvar-Hazy last week, I’m inclined to agree.)

So I guess this is just another day I have to knuckle through— it won’t be like this forever, and it’s a pit-trap to think any one day is indicative of the future. Onward. Right?

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