*poke, poke* Is this thing on?
The funny thing about long online silences is, you don't intend your last post in ages to be your last post in ages. It just happens to be a snapshot of what's going on just before you're about to enter a time of not enough time/energy/brainwidth to keep updating.
And on that count, hoo boy, my last posts about how my commute is fucking me up were spot. on. perfect.
The last year, summarized: commute, work, raise kids. (For values of 'raise' comprised mostly of flailing ineffectually while they turn out fine on their own, because you know, kids do that.)
I don't draw or paint anymore, I don't write anymore, I stopped horse-riding and martial arts, programming projects have gone to fallow. This is not a super exciting life.
At some point you just find yourself padding the gaps by blinking blearily at the Internet again and again, which the brain parses as "Oh hey, this is almost like I'm doing something!", except of course it isn't. At least I made a whole bunch of friends loosely playing asynchronous forum games on pony-themed subreddits.
With my commute and C.'s crazy doctor hours, we've been relying a lot on our nanny, the dear woman. Her availability and proximity are what helps us hold everything together. But she's not having a good year, at all. Within months, she got a divorce and then lost her dad. So... she's selling her house, and moving away.
And that's where everything kind of breaks down for us.
Basically... We're calling it quits. We've sold the house. And we're moving back down south.
After a lot of false starts because the housing market is fucked up beyond belief, we found a nice rental house 5 mins away from C.'s parents. We'll be relying on them a lot. Kind of have to.
Selling the house went mercifully quickly. The local market is dreadfully anemic, but our house is... well, was really pretty, and to be honest, we also took a heavy loss on the sale. That's life. Hopefully the buyers' mortgage will go through; we'll sign the final papers in October.
C. herself found a nice position at a smaller hospital down south, in the town where my own parents live. She'll have more night duties, but they'll be markedly quieter.
And as for me, my boss agreed to let me telecommute. The sales manager, who supervises those things, agreed as well. Aaaaand then the CEO stepped in and demanded I come in at least two days a week.
So for the time being, I will in fact be spending even more time on the train than before.
This is going to be a brand new life, though, and that matters.
Right now we're packing, packing and packing. You acquire so much stuff without realizing it. We've been throwing away a lot of old things, actually, which is strangely therapeutic.
The moving truck comes on Thursday. So, right during Eurofurence. Because of course the details of C.'s work schedule between here and down south, and the rental house's availability, had to conspire so the move could only happen this week. Seriously, at some point it just stops being funny.
I'll still be going to EF, primarily because C. said I should. (If it had been my own decision, I wouldn't have gone. But she's wise like that; I think we'll both have need of the tremendous mental energy I get from my yearly pilgrimage to EF.)
So right now I'm trying to wrap up everything before tomorrow, my last day here. Packing, relocating telephone/Internet subscriptions, more packing, everything must be done and done well so C. can just sit back and relax until the truck comes. I hope.
And here I am, wrapping up everything, and finally closing this update window so I can move on to the next task.
Given the trials ahead, I feel oddly optimistic and cheerful.
This entry was originally posted at http://balinares.dreamwidth.org/192490.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
And on that count, hoo boy, my last posts about how my commute is fucking me up were spot. on. perfect.
The last year, summarized: commute, work, raise kids. (For values of 'raise' comprised mostly of flailing ineffectually while they turn out fine on their own, because you know, kids do that.)
I don't draw or paint anymore, I don't write anymore, I stopped horse-riding and martial arts, programming projects have gone to fallow. This is not a super exciting life.
At some point you just find yourself padding the gaps by blinking blearily at the Internet again and again, which the brain parses as "Oh hey, this is almost like I'm doing something!", except of course it isn't. At least I made a whole bunch of friends loosely playing asynchronous forum games on pony-themed subreddits.
With my commute and C.'s crazy doctor hours, we've been relying a lot on our nanny, the dear woman. Her availability and proximity are what helps us hold everything together. But she's not having a good year, at all. Within months, she got a divorce and then lost her dad. So... she's selling her house, and moving away.
And that's where everything kind of breaks down for us.
Basically... We're calling it quits. We've sold the house. And we're moving back down south.
After a lot of false starts because the housing market is fucked up beyond belief, we found a nice rental house 5 mins away from C.'s parents. We'll be relying on them a lot. Kind of have to.
Selling the house went mercifully quickly. The local market is dreadfully anemic, but our house is... well, was really pretty, and to be honest, we also took a heavy loss on the sale. That's life. Hopefully the buyers' mortgage will go through; we'll sign the final papers in October.
C. herself found a nice position at a smaller hospital down south, in the town where my own parents live. She'll have more night duties, but they'll be markedly quieter.
And as for me, my boss agreed to let me telecommute. The sales manager, who supervises those things, agreed as well. Aaaaand then the CEO stepped in and demanded I come in at least two days a week.
So for the time being, I will in fact be spending even more time on the train than before.
This is going to be a brand new life, though, and that matters.
Right now we're packing, packing and packing. You acquire so much stuff without realizing it. We've been throwing away a lot of old things, actually, which is strangely therapeutic.
The moving truck comes on Thursday. So, right during Eurofurence. Because of course the details of C.'s work schedule between here and down south, and the rental house's availability, had to conspire so the move could only happen this week. Seriously, at some point it just stops being funny.
I'll still be going to EF, primarily because C. said I should. (If it had been my own decision, I wouldn't have gone. But she's wise like that; I think we'll both have need of the tremendous mental energy I get from my yearly pilgrimage to EF.)
So right now I'm trying to wrap up everything before tomorrow, my last day here. Packing, relocating telephone/Internet subscriptions, more packing, everything must be done and done well so C. can just sit back and relax until the truck comes. I hope.
And here I am, wrapping up everything, and finally closing this update window so I can move on to the next task.
Given the trials ahead, I feel oddly optimistic and cheerful.
This entry was originally posted at http://balinares.dreamwidth.org/192490.html. Please comment there using OpenID.