The living room of our rental is still so full of boxes that one must walk through it edgewise. There are still widgets in the kitchen that have no real home. The bicycles are still not rideable, and I have no idea where my helmet or the Real Doctor's cleats are. I'm using the same clothes I've used and washed for the last month, since I haven't unpacked my clothing boxes. I have not set up the workbench. My piano is still in storage in Sacramento.
Tonight we had the first dinner cooked at home for ourselves since June 1 (spaghetti carbonara) and a very nice bottle of wine that was captured sunlight and CO2 and water nineteen years ago (Dickerson Vineyards Ruby Cabernet, Napa). So, I feel less like a displaced person.