I think I have a case of the Marypoppins Maladie - I never stay anywhere longer than 3 years. There's a change in the wind and I open my umbrella (though mine unfortnately doesn't talk) and float to the next place I'm meant to go. I never float on a cloud like Mary though - my voyage is always a hurricaine of angst and storms until I open my carpet bag and create a new nest for myself in the next city. Even then I have black clouds that hang above my head from time to time until I feel at home and have made a place for myself.
After experiencing this phenomenon twice now, I know what to expect. However, I'm sharing my life with someone who doesn't and the thought of taking a giant leap into the beautiful sidewalk drawing of Paris sitting right in front of us is tremendously scary.
Let's go fly a kite, up to the highest height, let's go fly a kite and send it soaring!