Well. Here we are. Waiting. First we waited for orders. Now we’re waiting for federal passports. Waiting. We put our house on the market, which means I scold the children for leaving crumbs or Legos or fingerprints. Our home, no longer ours, now a fantasy for strangers. Whitewashed. Photoshopped. Creepy in its perfection. In Starbucks, … More Waiting