It is true, I am back in the states. I have things to tell you of my journey, my first trip across any ocean, but first: I am moving. Whose great idea was it to Get Married on the 13th, travel to Europe until the 26th, then move on the 1st. Oh, wait, I’m Moving in Boston, which means it was no one’s great idea. It was just the way things had to be to get a halfway decent apartment. That will probably still be an overpriced, semi-crappy apartment. C’est la vie.
No worries. We are seasoned pros. I’ve moved my belongings halfway across the country in the back of a pick-up. I’ve moved an apartment in a U-Haul up the DAMN street and survived an overheating cat and This Guy I Married running into a parked car, on said street, with said U-Haul. I moved down the street and around the corner and dragged all of my furniture up three flights of stairs after midnight. This move doesn’t even feel particularly stressful. We did a very good job of packing a lot before we left to be wed. We know how and when to call Comcast/NStar/National Grid. That Guy I Married is a teacher, so he doesn’t have the burden of full-time work for the next few days. Also, we hired movers, so That Guy I Married won’t be driving any vehicles into any other objects.
Tomorrow, I go back to work. Vacation: rad, but um… I am excited to go back. To see everything as I left it on my desk and tackle a pile of work.
On Thursday, we will wake up in one apartment and go to sleep in another. No big deal. No big deal!!
Please remind me of this nonchalance when I am crying on Thursday night and must go to work on Friday morning.