Good morning, my lovelies. It’s Friday. Additionally, it’s Friday the 13th. We’re in the middle of a pandemic, and people are hoarding toilet paper, of all things.
Fuck that shit, I’m staying home.
But seriously, I’ve got the day off. BossRPh offered me a day off when she was working on the schedule last week, and I decided to take it. I’m making this post, then I’ll be going upstairs to do a nice workout to punish myself for eating chocolate chip cookies yesterday. It’s a bit rainy today, which will make it slightly more difficult to take pictures of the collections as planned. Don’t worry, I’ll do it at some point. I also need to go to the post office; I have a shipment of Funko Pops to send out. Later, I want to get busy cleaning the kitchen, and getting some more stuff out of the Pink Room. I also want to go to Walmart.
Oh, and I need to buy a fucking truck at some point this afternoon.
Yesterday, the first batch of donations went out. It was a little bittersweet for me. There were boxes of books. Boxes and boxes of them. Most of what went out was stuff we hadn’t touched in forever.
Last night, a friend said one of the good things about moving is getting rid of things. Our problem was that we never did that when we moved. I’m fairly certain that most of the books that were in the closet had been in there since we bought this house in 2014. In some cases, those boxes could have been from two moves ago, possibly even three.
Shawshank wants to mix things up a bit and call me after lunch. I know it’s not going to be limited to just an afternoon call. He’ll probably want to call after dinner or something as well. However, he’s been better about not calling multiple times every night. I’ll take that as a victory.
A small win, but a win nonetheless.
I had a good talk with a couple of friends last night. I’m working hard at not isolating myself. Everyone tells me “you’re so strong, you’re doing great”. It’s difficult to hear, because I feel like I’m doing the complete opposite of great. I come home, eat dinner, and maybe spend 45 minutes trying to straighten things out before I crash on the couch. As much as I try to make myself a priority, self-care isn’t at the top of my to-do list. This weekend, I want to set up a list of goals to achieve every night. I’ll have things like “post 3 items in Facebook Marketplace” and “do the dishes”, or “take a shower you fucking scrub”.
For now, however, my self-care requires pants. It’s time for a workout.
