I'm moving back to my hometown... again.
Ten minutes ago I started writing this post saying how I should stop moving, choosing one place and start a life and blah-blah-blah but that's a lie, just something I think I should be feeling because I'm 30 something and all that comes with this age. But I love being in different places and there's at least 3 other cities I expect to live in for a part of my life before setting down (this will come, eventually).
What I really don't like is the trouble of sending around all my stuff, I have way too many books. While I was packing last night I realize I don't remember buying or having some of them. This is a disease, right?
But I can not deny it's hard to be on the bedroom right now. This is still home.
