Busy as all get out.
Having purged my bookcases and closet and the kids' playroom, I'm now in the process of getting all the purged stuff out of the house. With the exception of a few books we traded in at Bookman's, everything is getting donated, but it needs to be tallied first, and it's being donated to 3 different places, which necessitates a bit of running around.
I promised the kids I'd take them to see the no doubt insufferable Shark Boy and Lava Girl movie, which I fervently wish was not 3-D, but I don't have that kind of control over the universe, unfortunately.
Still in flare, which hasn't made all this work any easier. Of course, typing that, I realize that all this work is probably what's keeping me in the flare. That sucks. I've done so well for months now without needing any pain meds on a regular basis, I really don't want to cave and start taking them again, but if this keeps up, I'm going to need something. My hands were killing me all day, especially. Of course carrying bags and boxes of books around isn't exactly easy on the hands.
DH took Rosie over to the vet this morning. I thought I should do it but he told me no, even though I feel guilty. I feel less guilty than I did yesterday morning, though, since yesterday afternoon the laundry room was half-covered by a puddle of cat piss. Nothing like mopping up for the n-teenth time to steel your resolve. I cleaned out everything today, and scrubbed the floor in there (again). I must stress that scrubbing tile on hands and knees is very tough on the knees and no picnic for the hands, either.
It's so odd that Rosie is not here anymore.
In the evenings, I close all the blinds except the one on the sliding door to the patio, because Rosie would always come in and out at least 3 or 4 times before we went to bed. Tonight I followed that old pattern for no reason except I wasn't thinking. It only took me a few minutes to realize there was no reason to leave that last blind open anymore. I'm sure there will be many little moments like that over the coming days and weeks.
I haven't let myself get too upset today. I have this feeling of having too much to do, I don't have time for it. Also if I start crying I don't know when I'll stop, and that's no good. I feel sad she's gone and guilty because I sent her away, but also relieved, and I feel guilty for that, too. I choke up from time to time, I tear up, too. I know I'll cry eventually. Just not today.
I'm in Dory mode: Just keep swimming... just keep swimming...