Happy Thursday, y’all.
We’re expecting company at the Flat sometime today. Due to the cold, the landlord/management company is sending someone out to inspect everyone’s furnaces and verify they’re all in working order. Snug as a bug in a rug, as they say. They shouldn’t be long, and it’s not as though I’m entertaining anyone.
And… Shawshank just texted and said they’ve cancelled and he’ll explain at lunch. This should be interesting.
I’ve had a pretty low couple of days. My hormones have me very emotional, so EVERYTHING is overwhelming. I was crying over 25-year old episodes of ER last night. The thought of leaving next week breaks me. I don’t want to be separated from Shawshank again. I’m only now thawed out and not forced to wear 15 layers. I love the scenery. I adore the tiny little town.
On the other hand, I miss our cats. One of my last thoughts before I fell asleep last night was about how I was in the same position as I would be in Florida, but I’d have had Mal in front of me. And I miss Chaucer‘s help in the kitchen, and Mal’s constant chatter when the adults are talking because he needs to be included.
I need them all in my world.
I hate this.
