Not that this is anything new – but it hit home this week:  moving is a LOT of work.    Both Mark and I now have a head cold – Mark went first, I was a bit later.  We do not normally get sick; Mark has never had any kind of flu or cold ever since we met 2 1/2 years ago (I think he had the sniffles one afternoon, once) – we only need a steady supply of tissues because we both are terribly sentimental – give us half a sob story and we start to cry -, and my last cold was a year and a half ago.  We both feel too run down to be really excited about all the many things that have worked out so beautifully:  we found a good job for Mark which he seems to like so far, we found a beautiful house that seems to fit us like the proverbial glove, I already have one student, the weather of all of our moving days was pleasant (dry and not too frigid) which in itself is a miracle, considering that this is the dead of winter – yet all of this, at this point, provides more relief than excitement.  We are relieved – “Thank God we don’t have to worry about this …” –  rather than excited – “Wow! Look at this!! And that!!!”

Occasionally, there’s a glimpse of joy, like on Wednesday when Mark was walking across campus to pick up ID and keys and I happened to be “in town” (= 5 minutes from home) to pick up some music from my favorite music store – we connected and I met him, picked him up and drove him back to his building which was – oh, at least a third of a mile away …  We had never before been able to meet and see each other in the middle of the afternoon – just like that.  We are looking forward to getting back on more stable financial footing so we can go out and indulge in “doing the coffeeshop” and visit our favorite stores.

For now, we are trying to get over our colds.

(I just did a google search for the distance I drove Mark:  it is exactly 0.3 miles.  Am I good or what??)