My Husband Got His Own Apartment
We need to challenge what’s “normal” to figure out what works
My husband’s new studio apartment is on a college campus. As such, it has the requisite cinder block walls and brown-tiled bathroom floor. It is not a beautiful apartment, but it is more than passable. It’s clean, warm, and comfortable. It requires no commute. And perhaps most importantly, no one else lives there.
My husband will be spending three nights a week at his new apartment, Tuesday through Friday, as he settles into his new job as Assistant Professor. I’ll admit, I feel a bit guilty that we have access to two living spaces when so many people are struggling to afford just one roof over their heads. Then I remind myself that the university is under-enrolled and the apartment would otherwise sit empty. But still. It seems extravagant.
There are lots of good reasons for this new living arrangement. My husband is currently dividing his time between two campuses, one an hour from our home and the other 30 minutes further.
I worry about him on the road. Not just because of the other drivers, who seem to be getting ever more distracted and ever more aggressive. Not just because of the wet winter weather, or the heavy darkness that falls early and lifts late.
I also worry because…
