and we still don’t regret anything. I mean, our packing/organization is a damn disaster – Jay had to fetch pretty much every container out of the van for me to go through to find my surplus brain pills, and somewhere in our pile of stuff is a corded mouse I kinda need, and at the moment I’m using the kitchen floor as a pantry because there isn’t really one (I bought a plastic utility shelf for this, just need to assemble).

But we’re having a really good time! Obviously we assumed we’d probably do okay, but it is sort of surprising to me that this level of change and novelty is…fun?  Even the annoying stuff – the smallish fridge here, no pantry, the way sound travels through this place – is sort of entertaining, and the unexpected surprises are interesting and fun – I don’t know if all manufactured homes are like this, but this doublewide is insulated like one of those fancy coolers all the influencers have.  Wake up in the morning, I heard the heat come one maybe 3 times in the night, I maybe want to put on socks but I’m not stressed about it, log into my computer and OH, weather gadget says it’s 34 outside??

Even when I’m all discombobulated and out of sorts about that thing I can’t find or something I’ve screwed up due to lack of routine, I find myself grumbling “it’s fine, it’s fine” because for the most part, it’s pretty much fine.  Not a crisis.  Not something for my nervous system to fall apart over.

When I had to start on my brain pills about a year ago, I kept trying to describe to the nurse practitioner that I just didn’t have any “extra” left.  No boosts.  No reserves.  “No resilience,” she suggested, and that’s exactly the right word.  No stretch, no bounce.  This is a very deliberate and somewhat extreme exercise in developing deep resilience.  I have to assume there will be times where it is very hard, I’m just really surprised that it’s mostly this easy.