Over the weekend just past, my father-in-law and stepmother-in-law were in; they came over from the Natural State to help the Mrs. and me get through what needed doing. She had her recovery from eye surgery to manage (she seemed to be doing well with it when I looked last), and I had grading to do (work continues, as do students' complaints about the results of such work). In the event, some of the work to prepare for our upcoming move away from Sherwood Cottage and the wind-swept plains on which it stands got done. It is a good thing, as work to that end done now is work to that end that need not be done later. But it also has me out of sorts; as I have noted, home functions for me as an exteriorization of the interior. The reverse is also true; changes to my home-space provoke results within me. The disorder occasioned by the packing has made navigating my home and working within it more difficult, and I have not been able to mask my upset at it wholly. (For the record, I am not angry with my people; I am vexed by the situation. It has had me in a poor mood. I apologize.)
But that much is done, now, and moving forward must be done. I will be facing my last week of teaching for the term this week; next week is for exams, after which my tasks are done and my focus can be elsewhere entirely. Students will be working on their final major papers for me through the week--or they should be; I know some will wait until the morning it is due to attend to it--and the exams are more or less ready. Some small printing jobs will be needed, but they are easily managed; I have but to send them in. I will have my students complete a survey, such as I have before; it should not take them long, and it will offer them a quick means to get a few extra points before the exam happens. (I have offered several such opportunities. I am still branded as a jackass, even when I am overtly kind to the students. It annoys.) So getting through the next, oh, ten days of work should happen without much trouble. I hope it will, anyway.
What will happen afterwards is largely unclear. The Mrs., Ms. 8, and I will be relocating to the Texas Hill Country, where I have applied for several jobs already and, as needed, I will apply for more. The Mrs. also has job applications out; we expect the results of one today. What work will be available for us to do, and for what reward, is not at all clear; I suppose something will have to come about, and I do have some...strategies for making my case to people that they ought to pay me for doing things for them, but I am not certain whether they will be successful or with whom. It remains only to press forward, since backward is not an available path of progress, and to see what kinds of things can be set up to make the forward motion easier to carry out.