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compelled
Checking my to do lists on line and I feel compelled to shriek
5 MORE DAYS until we sign the papers
6 MORE DAYS until we move into our new house.
Why is it that no matter how well you plan and pack the last week before it turns to chaos? And THE FEAR hits. Of course we'll get finished. Not like last time. We had crappo movers last time--they left a bunch of stuff and James couldn't get any help so he had to make literally 12 runs back and forth from the old place to the new (the Saturn is not a truck, it doesn't hold that much).
We have professional movers this time. I have packed nearly every day, except for the week James was gone--my hands are cracked, spotted and bloody from the allergic(masto) reaction to the cardboard chemicals. I've been exhausted and sick. Still working on krys's baby shower too. The Bean is not well pleased with the lack of ability to run nekkid through the house holding court avec potatoes et shallots. Soon...soon there will be outdoors and such.
For the first time ever my life has followed a linear and pleasant progression--a natural movement from one correct thing to the next. Things fall into place easily a message from the goddess that all is as it is supposed to be. There is sorrow. There is loss. I guess that is what living is about.
Mr. Newguise came to me when I lived in a horrible studio with almost nothing (milk crate for a tiny black and white TV, a blaster and a bed on the floor and Hotspur--oh yes and the two crates of records I brought from Fayetteville). When I was holding him and crying the other night, I had a very clear moment.
He waited until I'd found a home. Just like Hotspur waited until I found a protector. Now it is time for rest. I'll have my ghost kitties with me always. I'm very glad I have their portraits tattooed on me.
Mr. Newguise is doing well--only I notice any difference. I am living in denial right now. That will change when it needs to.
I find myself wanting to go out one last time before we move. A sort of last hurrah. I doubt it will happen, which is ok too. There aren't lots of bars or clubs in Barrington and I find that to be a good thing. I am not giving up the boozing forever, just for mostly. I'll save it for special occasional occasions.
I think I'm saying too much again. My trust in this medium and in general is not what it was. I'll check in once more before we go offline in 5 DAYS...EEK.
5 MORE DAYS until we sign the papers
6 MORE DAYS until we move into our new house.
Why is it that no matter how well you plan and pack the last week before it turns to chaos? And THE FEAR hits. Of course we'll get finished. Not like last time. We had crappo movers last time--they left a bunch of stuff and James couldn't get any help so he had to make literally 12 runs back and forth from the old place to the new (the Saturn is not a truck, it doesn't hold that much).
We have professional movers this time. I have packed nearly every day, except for the week James was gone--my hands are cracked, spotted and bloody from the allergic(masto) reaction to the cardboard chemicals. I've been exhausted and sick. Still working on krys's baby shower too. The Bean is not well pleased with the lack of ability to run nekkid through the house holding court avec potatoes et shallots. Soon...soon there will be outdoors and such.
For the first time ever my life has followed a linear and pleasant progression--a natural movement from one correct thing to the next. Things fall into place easily a message from the goddess that all is as it is supposed to be. There is sorrow. There is loss. I guess that is what living is about.
Mr. Newguise came to me when I lived in a horrible studio with almost nothing (milk crate for a tiny black and white TV, a blaster and a bed on the floor and Hotspur--oh yes and the two crates of records I brought from Fayetteville). When I was holding him and crying the other night, I had a very clear moment.
He waited until I'd found a home. Just like Hotspur waited until I found a protector. Now it is time for rest. I'll have my ghost kitties with me always. I'm very glad I have their portraits tattooed on me.
Mr. Newguise is doing well--only I notice any difference. I am living in denial right now. That will change when it needs to.
I find myself wanting to go out one last time before we move. A sort of last hurrah. I doubt it will happen, which is ok too. There aren't lots of bars or clubs in Barrington and I find that to be a good thing. I am not giving up the boozing forever, just for mostly. I'll save it for special occasional occasions.
I think I'm saying too much again. My trust in this medium and in general is not what it was. I'll check in once more before we go offline in 5 DAYS...EEK.
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I can't wait to see the bean running about in the yard.
Wish I were closer so I could help out with kiddo wrangling and such.
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Mr. Newguise
I am very sorry to hear about Mr. Newguise. This is such a difficult and exciting time in your life. Remember that you are a good baby mommy and cat mommy. I'm sure Mr. Newguise know that too. Just as an extra, I'm emailing my sis who's a vet oncologist, just to see if she has any updated information on his diagnosis. She gets the latest treatments and information at U. Pen. My heart goes out to the Martini family..
E
Re: Mr. Newguise
Good luck with your move. We'll talk when we are all settled.
Oh, Jam thinks alexandra is the bee's knees.
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