Oh God I think my house may be the cleanest, well organized, cozy little bit of heaven ever right now. It is nearly 3am and laundry is drying, art prints and pictures framed, new fixtures put up in bathrooms, storage solutions in effect in the kid's playroom...I broke the bank but the fridge is stocked. Ethan was a real gent and cleaned out all the rotten food from it about an hour ago. There was a little jug of milk in there from last May and various other fuzzy things.
I just want things nice for my family, my in-laws, and me when I get back. I already stashed a pint of Chunky Monkey in the freezer. If I wasn't having other issues I would assume I was pregnant and doing the major nesting thing. *tweet tweet*
Thanks for all of your comments -- and thanks for reading. It's been great expressing myself in this way, and it really takes me back to when I kept a journal. (Though I have read my old journals and they must be burned before Josie can ever read them -- stupid drama! Yilch.) I appreciate the depth (and humor!) of some of the comments and personal messages. I mean, this is intense! I can only be better for it and if I can draw on all this love and loveliness, maybe I can make myself a better person. I hope this feeling stays with me after all I recover, otherwise (as my pal T.S. Eliot would say): I "had the experience but missed the meaning" or something like that. I will probably take his "Four Quartets" with me into the hospital, along with "Just Kids" by Patti Smith. I assume I'll be able to read and I'll assume I'll get bored! One can hope, right? I just want to be normal!
And yes, tonight I did tell Ethan: "I don't want to do this. I really don't." I believe it came out as a sort of whine, but more dreadful. I mean, really, this sucks!
Okay, I'm over it. Love you all!