What, for the love of god, am I doing at work today? At this hour? What happened to the weekend? All I remember is a grueling whirl of cardboard boxes, sweat, manual labor, and moving things from place to place, only to discover that my crap multiplied while my back was turned. I had to restrain myself from dumping everything into the trash or the nearest dumpster, simply to never have to deal with it or move it again!
The cats are writing their Congress-people to voice their displeasure about moving again so abruptly. They didn’t get to choose a place with wide-load windowsills for their sunbeam-filled naps or plush carpets for yet more naps. Shame on me!
It is very difficult, at times like this, to believe or even grasp that someday my life will be normal again. Right now I am taking each day as it comes and appreciating everyone who has helped so much. Even my ungrateful, spoiled cats would say “thank you” if they could only come out from under the bed and stop trying to make me feel guilty for moving them again!