Something inside me has completely shifted. I can feel it in my bones. I’m not just checking out of Georgia—I’m checking out of this entire lifestyle. The house, the endless chores, the suffocating routines—I want out.  

I am so utterly exhausted from the never-ending cycle of housework. The mopping. The vacuuming. The laundry. The dishes. The rushing every morning to get the kids out the door. The constant picking up, scrubbing, organizing, only for it all to be undone within hours. I don’t want to do it anymore. I refuse to do it anymore.  

I want a life where I never have to touch a dirty dish or fold another load of laundry ever again. And I can’t wait until I get to Latin America, where I will have a daily cleaning lady who takes care of all of it.  

Because this? This is not the life I want.  

I Want Leisure. I Want Freedom. I Want Joy.  

I don’t want my life to revolve around keeping a house clean. I don’t want my mornings to be frantic and stressful, racing against the clock just to make it out the door. I don’t want to live in a constant state of exhaustion, feeling like I’m just getting through the day instead of actually living.  

I want slow, peaceful mornings. I want to wake up before the kids, sip my tea in the early light, and ease into the day. I want my kids to wake up naturally, not jolted by an alarm. I want us to have breakfast together, not rush through it.  

I envision us in Latin America, spending mornings at the farmer’s market or on the beach for a surf lesson. Afternoons filled with homeschooling, exploring museums, playing with neighborhood kids. Evenings of barbecues, good food, and laughter.  

A life that is full, but never rushed. A life of leisure, adventure, and ease.  

I Am Already Gone  

The truth is, I’ve mentally left Georgia long before I admitted it to myself. That’s why I feel so detached from everything here. That’s why I no longer care about making this house “perfect.” It’s just an asset now, a financial stepping stone to my real life—the life I am about to start.  

In Latin America, I will live simply but fully. I won’t be bogged down by the weight of domestic labor. I will have time—to explore, to connect, to be present, to actually live.  

I can already feel the stress melting away just thinking about it.  

This Chapter is Over. I’m Ready for What’s Next.  

Georgia was never meant to be my forever home. It was a chapter—one that gave me stability, that helped me grow, but that I have outgrown.  

I don’t feel sad. I feel relief. Clarity. Excitement.  

I am ready for this next chapter. And this time, I’m writing it on my terms.