Stressed.

I haven't written anything in a while. Generally, this indicates that I have come upon one of two situations: either nothing is happening or everything is happening. This is a case of the latter.

Apparently, I only write in medium-happening situations.

Since starting a new job wasn't stressful enough, we decided to move a few months early so that these events could coincide. It's good to do these things at once, I suppose. If you're going to overhaul your life, might as well just rip it all off at once, like a band-aid. No point in spreading out the stress.

That's how I ended up sitting alone in our now-barren living room, worrying silently over email on my new assignments while surrounded by a veritable fortress of dust bunnies and cardboard boxes. Sir, very conveniently, has just taken off on a week-long business trip, leaving a great deal of the packing to Ian and me. We are trying our hardest not to fault him for this, which has been easy thus far since we mostly just miss him.

Ian doesn't understand what's going on, but all the activity around the place has him very concerned. Ian, despite our best efforts to toughen him up, does not seem to be made of hearty stock. He spent so much time supervising, skittering around, hiding everywhere and stress-vomiting yesterday that he's been passed out nearly all day today. We've tried to explain to him that we're not leaving him, that all the stuff will be okay and how much windowsill space there will be in the new place, but I'm not sure he's gotten the memo. It's very cute to watch him sleep in the sun and yet I can't help but feel badly for putting him through all of this.

But then I remember about the homeless kitties shivering on the street and I tell myself to get a grip.