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Today is cold and rainy.

I'm trying to do laundry in the big house and have to weather the weather with every load.  While my bare feet splash in puddles and slip on slick glass tiles, I imagine the sunroom in the potential new house (PNH) with the back sun room and the screen door to the backyard, folding laundry on a table under hanging plants.

Last night we went even farther in our imagining, looking through "The Not So Big House" books and pointing out styles we liked which were mostly built in book cases, and today I've spent Lane's whole two hour nap on pintrest going interior design crazy.

I am not comfortable in waiting.

Waiting to move from NC to Portland - I got wild and sold my mattress two months early and gave a hundred books away for free.

Waiting to move from Portland back home - I quit my job and moved the television to the middle of the room and spent days and days in bed watching netflix.

Waiting for Lane to be born - this was just the worst all around.

Waiting to move into this house - 

Waiting means inactivity.  I fall into a hole where I don't want to commit to anything since I know everything is about to change.  Why live the next five weeks of my life at all?  I've learned the last two years that once one waiting is over, the next is around the corner.

Patience is not my virtue.  I am definitely more of a Diligence girl.