Back in July of this year, I wrote a post cataloging the items that I planned on taking with me to Italy. Things that I felt were necessary for my life there. I chose these items at the time based on what I thought was functional, and also elements that would make my new home feel more familiar and safe.

But in the last week, as I’ve explored multiple teaching and work options, and I’ve faced the fact that there is a very real possibility that I may be moving from city to city for a while, I came to a conclusion. That list is STUPID. Well, maybe stupid is a little harsh, but it is certainly impractical.

I thought I’d learned better–hauling all those shoes (half of which were never worn)–back and forth from London in college. I bought a travel pack because I wanted to travel lighter in the future. Only bringing the clothes and basic necessities with me when I traveled.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve gotten a little romantic with myself…Even though I swore I wouldn’t. All the things on my list, my comforter, my saucepan, grandma’s silverware and my doorknob curtain ties, are great ideas and things that I would like to ship over to my house in Italy if I should be fortunate enough to stay there for a few years. But when I initially go over, those things will stay packed up at my mom’s house. All precisely labeled for future shipping.

Italy is romantic enough on its own. I can hardly even mention to a total stranger that I want to move to Italy without them immediately squealing, “OH! Have you seen ‘Under the Tuscan Sun’?” As I try to cover my internal cringe with a smile, I say simply, “Yes, I have,” and leave it at that.

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