uprooting

Now that it is evident that we are not going to be homeless or starve to death, the household is falling into their own reactions to the changes. I have become narcoleptic and distracted, yawning through the day with clothes pins stuck to my bra. The man is going through a giddy end-of-school streak of freedom, plotting his new incarnation and career. The infink is using the expanse of empty floor to stage elaborate Lego wars and break dance. The cats are working through a backlog of small creatures to kill, and then barfing them back up all over the moving boxes. There is paperwork, and hauling, and immune systems threatening to keel over. I need vitamin C. And maybe a shot of albuterol.

I'm not a Power of the Secret person, or even a cup-half-full person, but when things get taken out of my hands I tend to watch them go and trust that things eventually balance out, somewhere. You'll get yours, and I'll get mine. I'm good at waiting, and I have hope in shovelfuls.

Other things:

found myself at a party with gorgeous tattooed people who were far cooler than me.

made off with produce and lau lau.

saw a guy honk his wife's cooter in line at Costco.

consolidated phone plans to cut bills and somehow ended up with an [older model] iPhone. Taking pictures of absolutely effing everything. Sorry, unsuspecting people.

amazingly, came home to find the yard had been visited by the riding mower fairy. I don't know who did it.

Our people are fantastic. I am going to sleep until Tuesday now.