Getting a Grip

Or more than a grip, a handle. A lot happened this last week, my so-called vacation. Time to go back to work tomorrow. So here I am, trying to get the week into focus, trying to get a handle on all of it.

It seems like there was a lot, an unusual amount of a lot, for one week. There were many things that happened that would each by itself overshadow a week, would be the significant thing that happened in that week, but are now all paling in comparison to the biggest thing of all, which was little Q dying. Nothing else quite comes close.

Not the hours I spent working on the flood-damaged basement, leaving me with a tremendous sense of accomplishment.

Not being sick all week with the Chameleon Virus, the one that changes from stomach bug to hives to head cold. The head cold is killing me today. I hope tomorrow is at least better for that. And going to the doctor twice.

Got two of the cars serviced. The plumber was here. I guess those aren't big things, but they require planning and coordination enough to be noticed by me. They don't just happen.

Finally, finally got to have lunch with the Sibs and the gang today, and that really was a lot of fun and great to see them all. Not a one of them even spilled the beans about their older brother coming in to see R's play. (Actually, he'll just be here from California that week by coincidence, so he's coming, but R won't know until she sees him in the lobby.)

And R's new apartment. We really are all excited about this and looking forward to it in many ways. Today at lunch, she even asked Wonderful Niece about the stray cats that seem to call her yard home, and to keep an eye out for kittens. (WN adopted both of her kittens when they seemed to be separated from their litters and left behind by their mothers, right there in her own backyard.) So there's even a possible kitten source for her.

An oddly bittersweet week. Now I wish I had a week off to recover from it. Not altogether looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I have .... let's see ... exactly 8 weeks left, and in there one day off for Memorial Day and one professional day when I'm going to workshops. Maybe I'll take a personal day when R moves, if she wants me there, but that's up to her.

Okay, whatever. Back to work.


watching Gilmore Girls :: entry #1446