Two years ago today I spent about ten hours in a car with two cats and a tense husband.
Yes, two years ago today, we moved to New York.
A traffic jam in Pennsylvania put us a couple of hours behind schedule, so we didn't arrive in Bay Ridge until long after dark. The cats were scared stiff not only by the new digs, but by the sharp beeps from our fire alarm every few seconds alerting us that it needed new batteries. Tired and starving, we dragged a ladder that happened to be in the entryway to our building up to our third floor apartment to unhook the alarm.
By this time, it was almost midnight, and we still hadn't eaten supper. The Mexican restaurant/bar downstairs appeared to be closing, but the Mediterranean place across the street was still open. I don't remember what I ordered, but I do remember watching the Cleveland Indians beat the Yankees in the playoffs while we ate.
Back in our empty apartment -- we wouldn't be getting our furniture until the next day -- we unrolled a couple of blankets on the floor and quickly fell asleep.
I've long found it ironic that we chose Columbus Day 2007 as the day we left Columbus, Ohio. Seems like there should be some meaning to that. Something about exploration? Maybe I'll have a thesis by next year's anniversary post.