I have furniture. I have the Internet. I have food in my fridge, sheets on my bed, and clothes — well, I have clothes all over the place. I have the Rockies in the office, the Alps in the kitchen, the Andes in the bedroom, and the Himalayas in the living room (when it comes to piles of boxes and overflowing miscellaneous crap, I mean). I have my atlas for using as a reference whenever I need to list mountain ranges in order of increasing altitude.

I have a vision for my new home. It is going to be fabulous.

I have a sense of overwhelmedness at everything being so chaotic; at how much housework there is to do; at how hard it is to find things in these piles; at how my career responsibilities do not slow down just because I’m moving.

I have sadness because I’ll miss the St. John’s River at sunset, the pelicans and dolphins, the gorgeous winters, my friends, my outlaw brother-in-law (secret codename: Joe), and, most of all, my sister (secret codename: Cordelia). Have I mentioned that Cordelia’s pregnant with twins?

I have joy. I am where I belong.

And most of all, I have my thesaurus, my 90-page book plan, a printout of my WIP, my whistling teakettle, my comfortable chair, and, most marvelously, small patches of peace and quiet — so that I can finally, finally, FINALLY FINALLY get back to some productive work on Bitterblue.

What do you have?