But as of noon on Thursday and continuing on through the weekend, everything has been right in the galaxy: Alannah is here.
With my beloved wife now in Paris, it feels as though the move is complete. That
We've still got some stuff to sort out. You know, little things like getting Alannah a transit pass, hooking her up with French classes, and, oh, that whole pesky visa situation. But there is now a sudden sense of normalcy to life, the universe, and everything.
For me, at least. Alannah still needs to find her bearings, figure out how to get around, and adjust to living in an alien country. Not that I'm fully there myself, but the prospect of doing this together has me excited.
At this moment it's as though nothing's changed. I'm sitting in my cold-ass office (the heating is busted), writing up a storm of documents, and waiting for that whistle to blow so I can slide down that brontosaurus tail and call it a day. Only this time, when I scream "Yabba dabba doo!" I'll mean it.
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