Sunday, September 20, 2020

Home sweet home

I'm wrecked with the biggest push of the move today. Frankly, I'm glad I had already scheduled some blackout time from work, and had a lot of physical activity; RBG has sent me into active mourning.

Frak. I'm so tired. I ache everywhere.

The final drive from NC to VA (about 3 hours) was lovely this morning. It's officially heading towards autumn. I listened to Lenny Kravitz and Eastmountainsouth as I drove. Little Dog spent far more time in his crate than he thought was warranted, as friends and I picked through the storage unit and hauled a bedframe, desk, several tables and a few chairs in, piled unceremoniously in the living room. They all scattered once the heavy lifting was done, and I finally got the bedframe together -- this is not a one person job, and I couldn't find my toolbox, and and and. Somehow I have no pillows, sheets, or comforter. Whatever.

Last week was a crush of work items and meetings. It seems the universe decided to give me all that I asked for, in abundance. The editing position just expanded dramatically and I've been made editor of a new series in Philosophy. It has no name yet, and won't run its first article for a couple months as we firm up the details. The SOPHIA group is taking on a lot of new chapter development initiatives, and I'm the office in charge of nurturing it. Very cool, and very exciting. The Honesty Book looks like it will become a curated series that will see the light of day initially as a special series at Civil American (think Scientific American for Philosophy). Writing workshop went very very well this week -- there was a prompt that was just fun to write. There might be a year-long podcast to go with it. And of course there are still classes. In theory, I'm reading a book tomorrow and writing a paper on it on Monday.

The biggest news, though, is that I got to see Vivian, in person, at the therapist's office. I think there was some really good communication, and we had a lot of fun at the sand table -- she kept burying a jewel and making me uncover it. We meet again on Saturday in the park, weather permitting. I hadn't seen her in person since March.

I haven't begun to unpack boxes or arrange anything; my clothes are still in the footlocker; empty hangers are in the closet and I don't have a clue what it is I've missed out on in the rest of the world today. Which is fine.

I'm too tired to sleep, so I'm knitting a bit, working on a scarf for the wife of a friend. Everything aches (did I already say that?)

All is well, or as well as it can be just now.