As I've previously mentioned, N.A. will be going to a tenure-track position many, many states away from my temporary faculty job. Because I'm moving into a furnished apartment, the plan has been for my furniture as well as as much of my stuff as possible, to go down with N.A. to his state. This move was slated to occur mid to late July, leaving me bedless for at most two weeks. This also would give me several weeks to sort through all my crap in an organized manner.
Today, N.A. casually said (on the phone), "I think I'm going to move next Sunday. Do you think that your stuff will be packed by then?"
Commence freakout.
