HoneyBee of Trill
Apr. 9th, 2018 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoIt was snowing again, albeit in a desultory, futile fashion that faded as it hit the ground. I should have gone for a walk, but the spectacle of neighbors hurrying past with their unhappy dogs on a leash and their hood and scarves pulled up around their ears didn't motivate me.
The Sparrowhawk and I meditated and I got all calmed down and hopeful again. This motivated me a little too much. I helped him move a filing cabinet from the attic to the basement, where he's setting up an office space. It was no mean feat. The cabinet was heavier than I expected. Although he put it on a hand truck, he really needed someone to go ahead and guide it, and stop it from running away as it went THUMP THUMP THUMP down the stairs. The Parkinson's made it more difficult for him to put his feet down quickly from one step to another. This crushed my heart as usual. While he was sorting out files, I worked on weeding out other unneeded things. I always think I should give away a lot of the books down there, but when I start looking at them, they all remind me of some incident from when the kids were little. Old memories and dreams, and way too much dust. An hour of that sent me staggering back upstairs in a wrecked condition.
In talking to my mother tonight, I realized that she has an appointment with the eye doctor on Friday. I had forgotten this--probably because I wanted to! I think I will have to take her to that, because I doubt that the Duchess can handle it in the midst of the wedding preparations. This does not brighten up my week.
My therapist who broke her hip called unexpectedly and said she will be in the office tomorrow. I don't know if there's any point in taking up that thread again, but I'll make a gesture and go. I'm tempted to show up in my pajamas with my hair standing on end, clutching my flask, and yell FIX ME!!! But a) she's probably still trying to recuperate, and b) therapists don't like it when you act crazy.
The Sparrowhawk and I meditated and I got all calmed down and hopeful again. This motivated me a little too much. I helped him move a filing cabinet from the attic to the basement, where he's setting up an office space. It was no mean feat. The cabinet was heavier than I expected. Although he put it on a hand truck, he really needed someone to go ahead and guide it, and stop it from running away as it went THUMP THUMP THUMP down the stairs. The Parkinson's made it more difficult for him to put his feet down quickly from one step to another. This crushed my heart as usual. While he was sorting out files, I worked on weeding out other unneeded things. I always think I should give away a lot of the books down there, but when I start looking at them, they all remind me of some incident from when the kids were little. Old memories and dreams, and way too much dust. An hour of that sent me staggering back upstairs in a wrecked condition.
In talking to my mother tonight, I realized that she has an appointment with the eye doctor on Friday. I had forgotten this--probably because I wanted to! I think I will have to take her to that, because I doubt that the Duchess can handle it in the midst of the wedding preparations. This does not brighten up my week.
My therapist who broke her hip called unexpectedly and said she will be in the office tomorrow. I don't know if there's any point in taking up that thread again, but I'll make a gesture and go. I'm tempted to show up in my pajamas with my hair standing on end, clutching my flask, and yell FIX ME!!! But a) she's probably still trying to recuperate, and b) therapists don't like it when you act crazy.
