Mainly because I have been hit with a major case of “dark and dreary and stress and hormones and drama.” And it is coming out in a mix of depression, anxiety and muscle pain. And possibly also a cold to top it off.
My mind is playing havoc with my body – and here I am, flat on my back again hoping to destress enough to actually function.
¡Yay for wintertime!
Forever my mother (and grandmother) have bought dried figs for Christmas. I’ve tried them, several times – and plain don’t like dried figs.
This week, I was tempted by a box of fresh figs at my grocery store. Laid enticingly next to the check out counter, I fell for the trap and put them in my basket.
Plus, technically an adult and trying new things is probably a part of that.
Then I made this – which may have changed my opinion on figs.
When you wake up in the middle of the night, and the thoughts go to everything you said or did in the past couple of days – and how it is not how you would like to do it.
And how it is Saturday morning now – and you can’t do much to fix it until returning to work on Tuesday, because of … It is Saturday morning.
It’s my birthday today. I’m turning 33. Only 33 more years until I am 66.
Once I got past the big round 3-0 – I kind of have to remind myself how old I am by subtracting the year I was born from the year I am in – and then figuring out if I am before or after August.
Age, which was so important for a while, is becoming more of a fluid concept. At least as long as I am the second youngest person (still) at work. (Only by 20-something days, but… )
I’ve already had a co-worker tell me, “you’ll understand it when you get older.”
Probably not. But today is my birthday, and I am on holiday, and I will sleep in and try to figure out how to get all my stuff to fit into my new apartment, and possibly head to IKEA to make myself crazy.
I’ve spent almost the past month (it feels like) boxing up my books and movies. I went to my local wine monopoly store and asked if I could have some of the empty wine boxes. (My new neighbours will think I am a drunkard if they spy all the boxes going into the flat. )
If I can unpack the boxes fast enough, I can unload them at work for a move we’re doing there.
I have reached the stage where I can actually see an end to all the books and movies. Now all that remains is the rest. My clothes. The kitchen stuff. All the odds and ends that I have put into drawers over the years as I have lived here, and never looked at again.
It is time for the stage of the packing which likely won’t have me stopping up every 10 minutes going: “Hmmm, it’s been a long time since I’ve read that.”
and am currently waiting to see if my loan application go through. Signed the contract on the house yesterday.
The bank gave me a pre-approval for a sum before I went hunting, and I am actually applying for less loan than I was pre-approved for. So, theoretically, I should be ok. Still a jittery process. Waiting. Waiting.
I move in June.
I started packing. I have packed a (large) box of dvds and three (smaller) boxes of books. I am almost unable to see that on the shelves. May is going to be a long month.