I get emails that tell me people want to buy my house.
I feel sad.
I get an email telling me an inspector will look at the house .
I feel anxious.
I don't know if it is because I "cling" to the house as the last place I lived with my husband, that I am so unused to going on "adventures" alone, that it is daunting to leave this house.
I don't want to be stuck in a house that constantly needs repairs and costs so much .. taxes are hideous.
But it is my home, the only one I have ... I am sad.
If there was something exciting I was going to ... a flat in Buenos Aires near the Museum .. I might be packing already. Teaching the cats Castellano.
But I sit here while Minette sleeps on top of the crate in her soft little pillow bed she got for the trip, and Merlin is tucked in on my bed .. he appreciates a good bed .. I think that comes with old age.
I am not excited, I am anxious.
I will start calling movers tomorrow.