It’s not that I haven’t entertained the notion of moving before. And it’s not that I think moving is some special thing you should only do if you’re twenty-something or retired or relocating for a job. But why am I so obsessed with the idea of moving that I spend hours in the middle of the night scrolling through Trulia, yet so paralyzed by the idea I can’t talk to a realtor?

Then I realize that even if I’m right, hearing that you are an emotional seven-year-old while you’re sitting in the Social Security waiting room might not be very helpful. Because growing up is hard enough when you’re a kid. How are you supposed to start when you’re already an adult?