I spent the lovely long weekend with Mr. D., in our new city, in our new home. We unpacked, we put together furniture, we cooked, we watched TV…it was fantastic. I love our rental house — it’s spacious without being cavernous, it has lovely old touches, it fills with light in the afternoon and, notwithstanding some issues with the air conditioner after a hot afternoon, it’s very, very comfortable.

But now I’m back in Chicago. And I like Chicago, I do. But I’m back here in my box of a studio, listening to the window unit rattling against the window that lets in no light, laying on a saggy mattress set just on the floor, and staring at the dingy carpet…and I’m missing my husband.

Seventeen days.

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