Clean Misery

I'm not going to lie, I am exhausted. I have been giving my house a total makeover (much needed, of course) but right at the moment I am just too tired to move much more than my fingers. I am thankful for that much at least, so that I can actually post something. I took my laptop along to the future-in-law's place so that I could post but their love for making me miserably cold put a damper on that.

Dustin and I were charged to care for their dogs overnight and, being nice house guests, decided not to mess with the heat settings. This led to one of the coldest evenings I have spent indoors in quite some time; frozen feet, sore fingers, and all around misery. I just hope that when we go over there for their Christmas celebrations they turn the heat up some. I took a scalding bath and got right under a blanket to allow my body to stay warm for the sleep over.

All this cleaning, while extremely tiring, has been really therapeutic. After living in all the clutter for so long, I guess my mind and spirit felt a little cluttered as well. The cobwebs that had been neglected for so long are similar to the cobwebs in my mind. I suppose it was stagnation, and there's nothing that I hate more. Not only do I feel comfortable having someone come over and hang out in my now clean house, but I am actually looking forward to it. I have probably done some things that are extremely Obsessive-Compulsive, but... meh. Sometimes that's necessary.

On a completely unrelated but very upsetting note, I am pretty sure my little one has pink eye. Anyone who has had to put drops in a child's eyes, or in their own if they are squeamish about it, know what I am about to go through. While I feel bad for myself, I feel almost worse for her. There's nothing that seems more unnatural than putting a foreign substance on the eyeball, and for a little one that can seem devastating. I am just hoping that she handles it better than I picture in my mind because I have full-on screaming as her answer to these torturous drops. This is the child who, when she has a splinter, acts as though someone told her she was never going to get birthday cake ever again and when she gets the tiniest cut and bleeds even the most minuscule amount you would swear needs a tourniquet and a Valium. I am hoping the remedy for this is just going to be warm compresses otherwise I'll be needing the Valium.

I think that's all for now, but perhaps later tonight I'll have something astoundingly astounding to say... who knows. It happens. Much love, all.