Why fight the fact that I'm measuring my life out, not in coffee spoons, but it random bullet points? The past few weeks have been lived by working through "To Do" lists and time has been marked by scratching off completed tasks rather than looking at the clock.
So be it.
As I poke my nose around the blogosphere to see what's up at Chez Bloggez Ya'll, I notice several patterns: 1) Those Doing Research (often at way cool places!), 2) Those Going Home or Beginning New Positions, and 3) Those on the Move:
1) Dr. Virago, Morgan, and Another Damned Medievalist are all in England doing research (oh, how I wish I were too!). Flavia is just back from a successful transcribing trip, and Ancrene Wiseass has just returned and finally shaken the creeping crud she caught (yay, antibodies!). Squadratomagico is prepping for a trip to India (although I don't think it's for research)!
2) Sisyphus is back home for a visit, Tiruncula is back at her favorite house in beloved Old City. Earnest English is traveling to see her family, moving to start a new job; New Kid is happily ensconced in her summer teaching gig, Heo Cwaeth is looking for summer fundage; and What Now is getting ready to start a new gig!
3) And then there are the big-time moves, and I count myself in this category. JB over at Age of Perfection is making a big move and talking about the expense of it (which I so feel as well, sistah!) and Hilaire blogs about the emotional and physical taxation of a big move away from her favorite city.
As usual, Hilaire and I seem to be undergoing very similar moving experiences. There's just so much *stuff* and it all has to go somewhere. Preferably with some sense of order attached to it. And then there's the sadness of saying goodbye. Hilaire is saying farewell not only to her partner but also to many, many friends and her home city - that's such a hard thing I can't even imagine it! I'm saying goodbye to The Dutchman (no, not forever, but tell that to my breaking heart...). I put TD on a plane yesterday to go home and to a conference abroad for 10 days. Not a very long time by any means, but I still started to cry at the security door where I was still waving crazily and blowing kisses as he got wanded because he'd set off the metal detector yet again. While he's gone, I'll finish packing up my belongings (I hate separating sets of things we got for our wedding - it's depressing. Whose books/movies are whose? I get four cereal bowls, he gets four; I get four champagne flutes, he gets four. It's a practical tedium that seems strangely like divorce...) - then the day after he gets back, we go pick up his leased car, get the U-Haul and load it, and then bright and early the next day, we pile the screeching furballs into the car and motor.
Ya know what? I'm sick to death of talking and thinking about the separation. I want to just get to Dream Academy City so I can start blogging about the new place, the new job, funny anecdotes about colleagues and students. I know that missing TD will be a part of that blogging experience as well, but I'm just eager for it not to be something I experience totally undiluted. Like drinking really strong alcohol without a little but of OJ or Coke to cut the shock of it.
But, that's just where I am right now - and I won't always be here. You guys don't mind, do you? :)
I'm going to go get Wendy's...