Cyan’s house at Sundance was, apparently, the world capital for adults contracting childhood diseases. Rob got chickenpox, Wes got ear infections in both ears, and Kristina got a case of strep bad enough to necessitate a cortisone shot to the buttock.

So when I returned from the festival in good health – despite the jetlag, altitude, lack of sleep, heavy drinking, over-caffeination, and non-stop high-stress schedule of meetings and screenings – it was with at least some small sense of schadenfreude.

It was probably well deserved, then, when a few days after making it to New York I came down with a severe winter cold that I’ve not been able to shake since, though that I did manage to share with Jess.

To make matters even more “exciting”, last Wednesday, a woman knocked on Cyan’s office door, and asked if she could show the space later that afternoon.

“Show the space?” we asked. “To whom?”

To potential tenants, it turns out. Because, though our sublet contract continued through to the end of the year, the master lease for the space ended on Sunday, something we hadn’t been previously told. We spent the second half of last week packing all of Cyan’s possessions in boxes, packing those boxes into a Uhaul, and then unloading it all into a giant Manhattan Mini-Storage shed.

And, at the same time, business has been cranking full-speed ahead. We’ve been trading documents on several films that fit our new TASER co-production deal with Wells Fargo, and have put in distribution offers on a few high-profile films we enjoyed at Sundance and that we’d love to theatrically release.

I’m still full of snot, still running around trying to find Cyan new office space, still meeting with producers and sales reps and agents and film financiers all day long, and still trying to wedge the rest of my work into the few remaining slots of open time.

But, on the plus side, life certainly isn’t boring.