Four nights

I’ve spent four nights in this empty apartment and while it’s not exactly been fun, it’s at least been tolerable. The air mattress isn’t as bad as I feared (though of course it’s not great), I have a nice setup with my computer and monitor for watching Netflix and Hulu and other online stuff (and for Skyping with Mr. D.), and I’ve even cooked several times. (And “cooked” means “turned on the oven or stove to make something besides hot water for coffee.”)

And this week has gone by pretty quickly — a huge blessing.  I really only have one more week here before I move into my sublet and if that next week goes as quickly as this week has, well, it’ll be here before I know it.

It’s not that I’m exactly excited about the sublet; what I’m excited about is moving on from this place. It’s not really fun to live in the empty shell of your home, you know? I look around and all I see is what used to be here — and what’s not here now. It’s not depressing, but it is . . . uncomfortable, I guess. It highlights the other missing thing — Mr. D. It’s hard to be apart from him this long and being in this apartment just makes his absence more tangible.

So. One more week and I’m into my sublet. A week after that and I’m out in our new home, seeing Mr. D. for the first time in six weeks and helping him get the kitchen and pantry set up. And three weeks after that, I’ll be moving! I have been counting by days also — 8 until I sleep in a new bed, 13 until I see Mr. D., and 34 until I leave Chicago for good — but sometimes weeks are simpler. There are fewer of them, at least.

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