“Lunch at Epcot.”

I daydreamed for years (and years, and years…) about making the move to Florida. When people (oh so many people) asked why, my simplest answer was, “I want to have lunch at Epcot.”

Does the lack of state income tax suck? No. Is the weather beautiful, the community wonderful, the recreation endless, the pace of life a kindness to one’s blood pressure and soul? Most definitely, yes. I could write a long, long list of the reasons, both rational and heart driven, why – and yet…

And yet, when I wanted to sum it all up, simply and honestly – I wanted to have lunch at Epcot. I wanted to be able to go grocery shopping, or run to the dentist, or take the kids to martial arts class, or any other of life’s day-to-day mundane tasks – and then stop over at Epcot and eat lunch overlooking the koi pond at Katsura Grill or beside the gorgeous tile work in the alcove behind Tangierine Café. Smelling that incense and eating schawarma and tabouleh and baklava while listening to that endless loop of background music… And then leave and continue on with my day like it was totally and completely normal. Because it was.

I love the sights and smells and thrills of the Magic Kingdom. I could watch the Festival of Fantasy every day and cry omg-I-live-here tears. Hollywood Studios, even in its currently stripped state, houses more of my family’s favorite rides than any other park. And Animal Kingdom with its safari and endless food options and Pandora (oh, Pandora…) might blow my mind these days more than any other gate.

But Epcot.

Epcot was my why.

Wanting Epcot to be my normal was my why.