This Is the Way We. . .Clean The House

All on a Saturday morning.

Sue is coming over to clean my house. That is Becca's mom. I am going to do her taxes for free so it works for me.

My house is in dire need of it. Not since the funeral has it has a thorough cleaning. I walk around and pick up things but cleaning seems to take a part of the brain that has stopped functioning for me. I wash dishes about ever other day but since it is mostly glasses and utensils, I just don't care anymore. Funny, that used to be a pet peeve when I came home from work.

Of course, I've still got fake plates that people brought for the family to use the week Jerry died and I have used those nearly every day. There are even fake utensils that I've been using. So really the dishes have only been bad when someone else came and cooked and I let them clean up the mess.

Every thing is dusty and needs a mop up too. She is a very good cleaning person. Actually gets behind the toilet! My house always smells so good once she is done.

I need to throw out a pile of stuff. There seems to be junk everywhere but when I look at it I simply stand and stare and have no idea what I am supposed to do. I am not going to be able to function like this. I have to do something but everything is too much work.

I pulled back some of the curtains this morning to allow the sunshine to come in. It is a dark gloomy tomb and I am hoping sunlight will at least push back some of the shadows. I don't imagine it will last very long but just an hour or two of sanity without having to drown myself in some project would be nice.

Already, the drop in my mood is happening. I woke up with it and have not been able to shake it. I'm really tired, as if I didn't rest or something. Those pills are supposed to insure I do. I took a whole one last night and I may today if I can't shake this.

I have to go eat too just in case this shakiness is hunger instead of anxiety.

Oh, I just want my life back. The boring one where Jerry slept in a chair while I did everything else and fussed about it. The one where I could hear him breathing. I wouldn't fuss anymore, I'd just do it.