I haven’t written much about it here, but now that it’s so all-consuming, the only thing I can think to write about is Pete’s and my upcoming move. In February, I found out I’d been accepted into the Ph.D. program in English at the University of Missouri-Columbia, so we’ve been quietly planning since then. Now, though, we are very noisily planning: unhanging shelves and pictures (thank you, Mr. Ryobi, whoever you are, for the cordless drill with reverse screwdriver function), sorting out stuff for this weekend’s garage sale, and—my favorite—finding the perfect box for each task, packing it meticulously, and labeling it with black permanent marker.
Right now, the excitement for the move, for starting school, and for making home in a new place has somewhat overshadowed how much I’m sure I’ll miss Chicago. My brain is so occupied with what needs doing that I can’t even see the nostalgia coming. But I’m sure it’ll hit me blindside when the truck is packed, the apartment cleaned, and we drive away from this skyline, this City of Big Shoulders, no longer able to claim it as home.