This is what waiting looks like, when you’re hoping your husband will soon be finished enough with his thesis to bind it and submit it to his committee for one final ego bashing before The End of Graduate School. My lab has one of those complicated hand binder thingies that will inevitably jam at 3 am on the second-to-last stack of papers, so here I am, with Ben & Jerry’s and nuclei, celebrating the last pint of guilt-inducing goodness before leaving this country for who knows how long.
I can’t yet tell you whether I will finish the pint or not. I guess that depends on how the rest of the night goes.
Tomorrow, I will sell a car for the first time, finish editing my last paper here at the lab, show up at my goodbye party, and maybe find some new homes for more of our stuff. I will fill out paperwork (moving abroad requires LOTS of paperwork, which you cannot lose or mess up on lest you find yourself completely screwed), make more calls, write more emails, transform a home into an apartment that echoes when you speak. It’s been a lot of firsts lately, and not many comfortable ones, but we’ll get there.
In the meantime, I’m going to try to learn to be patient. Or finish the ice cream. Whichever comes first.