é sido oito anos já

It's been eight years since I moved to Orlando, after nearly a decade away conquering the world.

In eight years I have, variously:

~Lived in seven different places, in five zip codes
~Held two (possibly three?) different job titles
~Bought a laptop and lots of other geeky gadgetry
~Owned six domains
~Given up some bad habits
~Taken up others
~Paid somewhere in the region of $1,000/month in rent
~Bought my own condo
~Changed every item in my wardrobe, except a ribbed black (now grey) t-shirt which I borrowed from my friend Bridgette in 2001, and never got around to returning
~Went from being able to carry my world on my back on a train from the North to fully furnishing a house
~Done some things I never EVER thought I would do, including:
*Played hockey. For real. *Used the line “your fighting skills are weak and unsound” in an actual conflict *Got married - I was vaccinated against marriage, but this time I was FORCED *Ate a whole block of chocolate *Learned to speak Papiamentu *Learned competitive ballroom dance *Read a book about financial planning *Fell asleep in the dentist’s chair.
~Cooked salmon
~Eaten in a private members club
~Been promoted
~Worn heels out of choice
~Fallen in and out of love with this mad, ginormous, ugly, smelly, expensive, stunning, exhilerating, unbelievable city again and again and again.

Can I have a rest now?
I'm sorry, I'm just a little weirded out by it all.