We’ve been in the house six weeks now.  After initially feverishly emptying moving boxes for three days, I slowed to a snail’s pace. Tired and overwhelmed by where am I going to put all this stuff? my movements have been slow as ice-cold molasses for days upon days now. Seems silly given that I’ve moved so many times!  I’ve lost count of the moments where I threw my hands up swearing to throw it all out into the street for the next trash pickup. Yes indeed.  My emotions have been vacillating wildly from “Ah, this is going to work just beautifully” to “How can I love this money pit of a house?” Rocket-man has remained fairly steady with his stream of “No’s.” NO, we…