Moving involves leaving. Who knew?

OK, so it's got to me.

Easter Sunday in church, the service ending with the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus, and me thinking that next Easter, I will be in a church which probably won't have that tradition.

Realising that I do like my house - now it's all tidy and clean!

Watching Michael Scott leave 'The Office'. Ah. That was the thing that got to me. Right under my skin. 'The Office' - the American version - has been a sort of backdrop to our time here. First, there was the transition from the English version to the American version, and finding that we preferred the American version (Husband can't bear Ricky Gervais). When we had cable, we often watched 'The Office' because we were bewildered by the obscenely huge choice of channels and didn't know what else to watch. Then when we gave up cable, we watched old episodes of 'The Office' because they're on all the time on the very limited number of channels we still get. And now we've worked out how to watch Netflix 'instant' instead of getting DVDs in the mail, we've gone back and filled in the gaps. It's the evening staple for me and Husband, when we're tired, and just want a glass of wine and 40 minutes of undemanding tv, to unwind before bed. And now, with tidy timing, we're finishing up the final season.

Michael Scott leaves. No. How can that be? How can he leave? How can we leave? I love the way 'The Office' shows how a random group of weird, annoying, flawed, yet wonderful, individuals, can become a community. If the story of our time here in the Midwest has been anything, it has been a story of finding community. And don't be insulted by the idea of being "weird, annoying, flawed", because we all are, you know. And I did say "yet wonderful", in case you hadn't spotted it.

So when I watched the bit where his colleagues sing Michael Scott the ballad, summing up the 9 million minutes he'd worked in the office, it got right under my skin and into my left ventricle and even my tear ducts. I confess I got a paper and pencil and worked out how many minutes we've lived here (over 2.5 million - if you don't count the summers away). It wasn't just me. 14-yo (who is wired emotionally so like me) was moved too. "I don't think Michael should have left. Why did they write that into the series?" he's asked me more than once.

And now I just can't get that tune out of my head. It's melancholy, but kind of inspiring and fulfilling too. I love how music can do that - be a mix of emotions all at once.

So Michael Scott, you moved to Colorado and a new life with Holly. We're moving to Britain. You will be an indelible part of my memories of my time here.

Here is that song. I defy you to watch the video and not be moved. Moved and moving. How apt. And the word 'emotion' comes from the same root. Yes, very apt.