He is, fortunately, staying at work later. I know, a PhD who you have to cry to get them to spend time IN their office? Maybe I'm lucky. It's kind of cute* that he thinks he's putting me out by spending time in the office, because I really do think he believes all the little time we spend together is important.
My job at the university is heavily affected by the return of the students, and I'm in full-time grimace mode right now. At least it gives me more to do (the doldrums of this summer were driving me bonkers).
*It puts me out, though, to think that every sci-fi episode we watch at night is one more 44-minute chunk of life we could have been closer to moving on. I am afraid to do the math.
p.s. I do not hate my dog. But I come close. She looks like this poor little guy: