I've been in the new place a couple of weeks now (my move-in date got delayed for a variety of reasons, including the promise of new flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms, and all new appliances), and I'm finally starting to feel settled, and like this is where I live, not just where I'm staying.
Of course, when I was in the hotel, I definitely didn't feel like I actually lived in Florida. Now that I'm in my new place and getting everything arranged the way I want, it's feeling much more like home, little by little.
I had a strange moment this week when I bought a ceramic.... "thing" for my kitchen utensils to sit in. (It's not a jar, and not really a pot.... you know what I mean. A thing.) I had lots to choose from, and I picked one I liked, took it home and put my utensils in it. Then moved it to the other side of the stove (because I'm left-handed). And in that moment, I realized that I'm right where I need to be.
It may be silly or cheesy, but I've really struggled with this move to Florida. Not only because my entire family except for the munchkins are in the Midwest, but because of the major career change that came with the move, and the major change in my short- and long-term plans.
Maybe that's part of why it's taking me so long to feel more at home here: I'm still working on adjusting my plans. I know that's what life is, but it doesn't mean it's always easy. This is one of the not-easy phases of my life. And I'm adjusting, making it all work for me.
It was a strange revelation to come on the heels of putting a spatula in a thing, but there you go.