I am technically homeless at the moment. I mean, it's not dire. I have a roof over my head, and I move into my new place soon, but for practical purposes? I don't have an address. I don't have most of my stuff -- it's all in storage.
It's very weird.
And if not for the kindness of my friends, I don't know where I would be.
However, I'm lucky because my friends are kind, so instead of being in dire circumstances, I am in a pretty room with a comfy bed, snuggled up with Bean (who, by the way, just looked at me adoringly and then sneezed on me). It's all good.
It might not have been.
But it is.
So I don't feel homeless. I feel blessed. The path that brought me here was twisty and cold, but the one that's bringing me out is warm and sure.
Warm, sure, and occupied by a sneezy Beansie, which makes it a kind of home.