House sweet house

Homeward bound

I am stealing a few precious moments on the internet here in DCU (which makes me feel quite modern with my WIFI) to alert the world to the fact that we have moved. House that is. Not mountains, although it felt like it. It's been stressful, just like they say, second only to bereavement or divorce (depending on who you talk too). JB found it particularly so. You really never stop getting to know someone, do you? He went into an uncharacteristically moany mode - and dealt with the whole thing by becoming OBSESSED with assembling our furniture. I mean, he wouldn't eat or sleep for hours, he worked through nights, through blisters, through exhaustion. I think he's coming round now, he admitted he enjoyed walking along Homefarm Rd, with the sun and the trees (we've had a week or so of lovely bright weather) - although he is still talking longingly of sleeping one last night in the old place.
Me, I have been snappish too. The Lord knows it.
Progress is being made though.
In a stroke of unfortunate timing, it was Old Friend's child's christening on Sunday. I sum it up in two words and the two words would be:
and JB whispering in my ear - Can we go now?
But after L and A had a lovely glass of wine for me and we had a nice dinner of Indian Takeout Leftovers while JB returned to his drug of choice - Furniture assembly. So all was well, and faith was restored.
It's back to the Masters now. Tension is at fever pitch now - people are giddy and demoralised by turns, fights are breaking out over space in the D*gital Hub exhibition space, tired students hunch over video-editing suites. I am plodding away in the background, trying not to get lost in the Most Attractive Displacement Activity Ever, and that would be Playing House.
Lucky the JB continues to give one a good reason to laugh, all the same. He was on the phone yesterday complaining to e*rcom about our connection. I could hear him saying in a little tiny embarrassed voice "yes" and "no" and "back to menu", and realised the source of his discomfort was the truly modern one of Having To Speak to A Machine As If It Was A Sentient Being. And so it was I laughed my socks off, and hooted like a banshee.
Looks like they're closing up here, best be off. Cool and all as it is, I would not relish being stuck here all night. 


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