So he leaves next Mon. No question of me moving to Morocco though. There's too much to do here. I've got to do something with both our cars, his motorbike, all our furniture, hand in the apartment etc.....

The packing. What a nightmare. When I moved in with him after the wedding, there was no room for all my stuff. Don't ask me how things I acquired when I had one bedroom in my parent's house wouldn't fit into a 3 bedroom apartment. They just didn't. I'd had years & years to accumulate them.

The answer back then was to send everything I wasn't using to Morocco with my parents. Now over the last year or so, I seem to have bought 10 times as much junk. New fields of shopping interest, you see. Bed linens, household appliances, tea sets, dinner sets, sets of everything, all kinds of automated cleaning gadgets that all promise magic.

It's daunting to think I now have to either pack & dispose of all this stuff, plus his stuff - on my own. I don't feel like doing any of it. I love this apartment. I love everything in it. And we both put so much effort into putting it all together, making it comfortable, finding just the right corner for everything etc....

Now I have to take it all apart & go live in a bedroom in somebody else's house.

And I've got to follow up all my immigration paperwork.

And start thinking about what I can do for work over there. I have to start looking through the business cards on my desk at work to see who I know with good contacts in my field in Sweden.

And then there are the language lessons. Have got to make some progress on those. Have got to be at least conversational when I get there if I want to find a decent job. Isn't it unfair how half my European colleagues have excellent jobs with obscene packages here even though they don't speak a word of Arabic but when it's my turn to work in Europe, I have to learn the language or earn peanuts? No fair!

Am trying to make the coming seperation as painless as possible for both of us. And being me, I know I am trying too hard. It's very high maintenance being so determinedly cheerful all the time when you're as depressed as I am. So much that I am seriously starting to wish he'd hurry up & leave so I can be miserable in peace. I have to stop myself from saying something along the lines of if you have to go, do it now, am sick of all the suspense.

Sigh. One of these days, I'll pick up the trick of doing things just right. Not too little & not to much.