I spent Monday on the nearby college campus, enjoying a bit of a break before both a medical appointment and what promised to be the week from hell.
I spent Tuesday organizing two weeks worth of everything; meals, chores and holiday, so we could get it all ordered and picked up and generally managed. And then I had a physical therapy secession that both helped immensely and hurt enormously.
Wednesday I cooked a weeks worth of food.
Thursday I cleaned the house from top to bottom, including five loads of laundry.
And today I spent literally all day in the hospital while my Kitty Cat was having surgery. (Two legged cat, not one of the four legged ones.)
I am officially poopered. I am done in. I am going to go sit on my couch with my four legged cats and knit things and contemplate my options for the bullet journal I've decided I'm doing next year along with my binder. The idea of it being a sort of a scrapbook of the day-to-day is just too appealing. I realized when we were approaching this surgery that the big events in our lives tend to be the bad ones, surgery, a car accident, having to move away from home to avoid trauma. The parts of our lives that bring us joy and happiness are too small to scrapbook or even journal, a good book, a clever round of game, curling up on the couch together. I want a way to remember the small things. Hopefully this will work.
And I bought myself a thing.
Because I need to be reminded that taking the time for a pot of tea is immensely helpful.
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