A stuck door

So it's getting dark outside and I'm sitting here at my laptop again, working on my freelance stuff, but finding it hard to settle and pondering making some toast. I'm thinking about how this time next week I'll be setting up my 'office' in our new flat, and working at a desk in a room, not stuck in a corner of the dining room with an old duvet cover seperating me from the Postie who is on the other side of it watching a DVD with headphones on. I know in about half an hour he'll get up and announce he's going to bed which just kills me every time, because then the house becomes even quieter and everyone is asleep and though it's only about 9pm, it feels like 2 in the morning. And I feel like I've barely even talked to him - we're like those ships passing in the night.
Someone said to me today, 'wow, you must be exhausted', and I have to say I am. It catches up with me every now and then, and I have one of those days where I'm shoving my shoulder up against time, banging it like a locked door, feeling stuck in the same minute over and over again. There is a great deal of Groundhog Day-ness about my life right now, even though what with moving and having a job with lots of variety and people and news, things seem stagnant. I think it's just me though. I will be glad when time starts moving again and I will break down that damn door and perhaps even do a bit of knitting.