Moving is exhausting

A lot of things happened since last I wrote:

  • I had to say goodbye to a bunch of people I love in my old location. This was awfully sad, although also good, in the sense that it would be much sadder if I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to anyone.
  • I had to say goodbye to the place where I lived, by which I mostly mean my apartment but also the city. This was also sad, especially because this was the place where I had lived the longest — longer, certainly, than anywhere I lived when I was a child. It was also the first place to which I chose to move (as opposed to moving because my parents decided to move our family, for example), and the city felt mine more than any other place where I had lived.
  • An excellent team of movers packed up all my stuff and my partner’s stuff and very nicely moved it for us.
  • My partner and I dug ourselves out from underneath the many, many boxes that the excellent movers moved for us.
  • And we even hung art on the walls and stuff! The apartment is mostly put away now, which I think is pretty fast for most people (it took us two weeks of doing almost nothing other than moving), but made me very antsy toward the end. I was really, really done with all the clutter everywhere, and I think everyone is relieved that the time at which I hit my “I am done with this” point coincided pretty closely with the time at which the unpacking-and-putting-everything-away process actually got done.

So here I am, at a new institution and in a new city. Time for new adventures!



Author: Happy Balloon

I am a new assistant professor in a STEM field at a research university. If you think you've figured out my actual name (which, sadly, is not Happy Balloon), please refrain from posting it anywhere here. But please do feel free to post all manner of other comments!