Whenever I’m clicking around the Internet and nobody is updating, I have to come here and update, lest I become a hypocrite. That all works out for the 2 people reading my blog, but not for me.
This week was incredibly busy. Next week looks to be the same. I guess I’m pretty resigned to being crying busy until at least March.
Which may be why I had my first visual migraine today. If that sounds sexy, believe me, IT WAS. The lights! I sat very calmly on our couch next to my husband, freaking the hell out while a little spot of shimmering light in the center of my vision grew into a crescent that widened, widened, and finally moved out of my field of vision. After it was gone, I said something about having figured out what is was on the Internet (it was hard to search for it because I didn’t know how to describe it and I COULDN’T SEE) and Greg made fun of me a little.
I told him where he could put his derision. Maybe I am a hypochondriac. Wouldn’t you be?
This weekend all I’ve done is chores. Yesterday I took Miss Mollypants, her highness, to the vet. My cat is a mystery to most people I know casually or at work. They think we only have a dog. But no, Molly has been with me since before I met Greg. She’s a cranky old lady of 14 with a heart murmur. See how we deserve each other? But she’s hanging in there, and I finally switched her to Ursa’s vet who is right around the corner from our house and so so so much nicer than her old vet. Also, the new vet says there’s absolutely no reason to pull any of her teeth. Suck it, old vet.
Also yesterday: bank, library, Best Buy exchange, Target exchange and supplies, Costco (oh, god, the humanity), the fruit and veg market, home. All that running around and yet today I had to go to the grocery because needful things were forgotten while I was out yesterday. Like some Coca-Cola. Which cures migraines.
This morning, after my NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE, GREG, we took down the Christmas tree and swiped down the entire house. I still have laundry to do. God, there is nothing more depressing than being 5 on and 2 off and then spending 1-1/2 days of your weekend doing nothing but work.
Life, you know. Everybody has to do this crap over and over. Where are the robots we were promised? The jet-packs and teleporters? WHERE, I ask you.
I have about 8 hours left awake in this weekend. Could just about finish another Louise Penny book in that time. As long as my head doesn’t try to firework off my body again.