Yesterday I Got Up and Did Productive Things. The first fifteen minutes were agony (my legs fall asleep and my head goes woozy if I stand for more than thirty-two seconds), but I kept at it, and by the time James got home I was freaking ball of sunshine. With teeth. But little teeth.
I cleaned the kitchen and washed three days' worth of dishes. I did laundry and even folded some of it. I took all the crap for the hospital that was heaped on the dining room table and started organizing it to go into my bags. I took three loads' worth of clean laundry off the dining room table and dumped it on the bed upstairs. We won't talk about how I completely forgot about Getting Back to It until James hollered down at midnight, "Honey, what's with all the clothing on the bed?" I made notes of dates on my calendar, and I sorted through mail to find some coupons. James and I hauled out a whole bunch of cardboard boxes and wadded-up magazine pages from the boxes and boxes of candles I'd finally unpacked. We went for a walk. I made a pork roast and baked potatoes. That was my daily cooking limit, so I just microwaved a package of spinach.
Wow. I didn't realize how much I accomplished yesterday until I wrote it down. It felt really good. I've done almost nothing but lie on the couch the last few days, and the house was starting to feel like a garbage heap.
Today I vacuum and maybe even clean a floor or two. If I were more diligent, I'd be mopping the kitchen floor every day. When I'm preparing dinner, food goes flying everywhere. Vegetables especially. I'm like a blender with no lid. And a jet fuel-powered motor.
On our walk, a familiar little sports car rolled up to the curb next to us. "Oh my goodness! You haven't had that baby yet?"
It was our realtor. The last time she saw me I was five months pregnant and already looked close to delivering. We stopped and chatted for a while. She kept eyeing my belly like I was about to give birth right there in the street. I don't blame her. I own exactly two shirts now that don't expose the underside of my white, white belly. This sucks because it's getting colder, and I have this half-moon of ice cold flesh running across the middle of my body. Also, it causes children to go blind.
Did I ever mention that we have a cat now?
We have a cat.
James's mom had knee surgery and can't very easily take care of her anymore, at least not for a while. So we took the cat. At first I was okay with it ONLY because my mother-in-law is awesome and needed us to help her and it wasn't such a big deal, I suppose. I guess.
I. don't. like. cats.
I'm allergic, for one thing, and Zyrtec can only work so many miracles per day. And so many cats lack personality. I just heard 87 Krazy Kat Lovers inhale so sharply their noses collapsed. You want to convert me, I know, but just give it up. Our family has had like 24 cats over the years (I'm only slightly exaggerating, for once). I know cats. We don't click. To me, they're just warm, fuzzy things, which is not a redeeming quality at all since I can't very well snuggle with them. I especially didn't care much for this one because she so prissy and skittish and hates me for taking James away. I am That Woman.
But. I'm starting to like her. (Shhh!) I wake up with more cement lodged in my sinuses every day, but she's nice to have around. Especially when she gets Insane Cat Syndrome. Or spends twenty minutes staring at the living room fan like it's the cat Messiah. Don't tell anyone, though. And I still don't like cats. I just like Cat.
And I can't wait to see her flip out when I start vacuuming.
I had something else to talk about, but I don't remember what it was. I may add it later if I remember.
That's absurd! I don't remember things anymore. The phrase "if I remember" should just be struck entirely from my vocabulary.
The one good thing about all this is that I'm learning to keep a calendar and be organized and write things down. Which doesn't really help if I can't even remember what day it is.
So I guess we're back
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