But not until I put this out there: Please send good mojo thoughts to a friend going for a scary doctor's appointment. She's got mine, but could use more. Thanks!
But not until I say thanks to all for the good wishes on Single Parents Day. We ended up eating in - Spencer had a lot of homework - and that's more important than a dinner out. We still celebrated though. That's all that matters.
And last but not least, not until I get over the fact that yesterday was the day I was supposed to have that damn glucose test after having lost 20 (or more) pounds. As we all know, that didn't happen. Disappointing? Definitely. Major setback? Not so much - just a regular size setback I'd say. I can do this, I will do this, blah blah blah. I'm a little down about it right now (especially since I'm not halfway there - again), but I'll bounce back. I always do. There is no room in my life for extended self-pity. It's counter-productive and I've got a life to live.
OK, that's done.
So, today is Thursday. I've decided to Christen it "Apartment Therapy Thursday". Fridays are now just Fridays.
This past weekend, I started respecting my Apartment (hell, I'm even capitalizing the word). Giving it the attention it deserves. We both are benefitting from this little experiment in organizing too. After a good round of 'respecting' (i.e. cleaning, rearranging, decluttering) the dining area on Monday night, I had the best night's sleep. There was no waking up in the middle of the night, no clenching of teeth, and no waking up with a sore back and a headache. Pure. Heaven. Even the dreams were restful ones.
The empty dining area - notice the bubble shades on the floor - I hadn't cleaned them yet.
I've designated my "Outbox" and because of that, moved our tiny dining table closer to the living area. OK, so realistically, the whole living/dining/kitchen area isn't all that big. Work with me. It makes him (yes him) feel more important.
Him what?!? Apartment Therapy suggests that you treat your Apartment as a living entity. It needs attention, care, and respect in order to live a good life and shelter you comfortably. OK, I can get down with that. She of the naming of inanimate and mechanical objects who held conversations with her stuffed animals and toys when she was younger can totally dig it. Therefore, I shall dub him "Rhett". Because I just love naming things and I can.
CONTEST: If anybody can guess why I'm calling him Rhett, I'll send you a set of stitch markers, or a pair of earrings, or a cell phone charm. (Guesser's choice.) If nobody guesses correctly by March 31st, I'll start giving clues. First correct comment left on the blog wins.
So now what? I've read the book all the way through twice, and I've started the deep cleaning and decluttering. At the end, I get to decorate. The book has an 8 week "Apartment Cure" for you to follow along with - either word for word or however you feel comfortable. Of course, I'm doing my own thing as I loosely follow the "Cure". It's working and I'm seeing definite change - and most importantly, I'm feeling the change. It's effecting every aspect of my life.
I'm sorry for ignoring you Rhett. Let me make it up to you. Shall I lovingly caress your shagginess with the new sucking machine? (Vacuum people. Vacuum!!!) How about some fresh flowers or maybe some living plants? You'd like that, wouldn't you?
Update: Last night I started going through boxes and getting rid of stuff left and right. It felt good. I woke up at 4:30am from a bad dream - I was actually crying! All out balling!! I've never done that before. The dream? I was doing something important - a test of some sort - and couldn't find the stuff and formulas I was supposed to bring with me. Hmmm... Analysis: a little separation anxiety from getting rid of stuff (should I keep it? will I need it someday?), peppered with Spencer's math homework (formulas - the quadratic equation no less), and a bit of Mythbusters thrown in (tests that need stuff). This "Cure" thing is gonna be a rough ride. But I know it'll be worth it. Guess this proves how much it really does affect my life.