Has it been that many already? Well, *shrug* this is Sparta or something.

The actual steps of moving aren’t far out of reach. It’s taking the steps that seems insurmountable. I’m so close to the end of my checklist every time I look up I can smell the Pacific Ocean. Leaving for no reason might be hardest. It takes a lot to get up out of a comfortable spot. And I’m really comfortable in Memphis.

A comfort born out of callouses and puffy red eyes. Watered with tears, the roots of my story have grabbed hold of me. This seed is ready to plant and all I see is hard clay dirt. There are stones still left unturned, despite my contrary efforts. It’s good for all of us that way.

Ah hell, let’s be honest. One or two more steps will involve local stones.