I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Monday afternoon. Harry the kitten was being so adorable last night as I was leaving TCB's that I couldn't resist taking his picture and sharing with all of you. (He's 12 pounds now, in case you were wondering, and only eight months old - yikes!)
Work is, well, work. If all goes as planned, things should settle back into long periods of doing my usual activities broken up with the occasional re-release of products for bug fixing. Nothing to write home about but I'll take it after the past few months.
TCB and his Navy buddy fixed the carport doors at my condo that have been broken since Summer of 2002, so that makes a nice change. Slowly but surely, my friends, I'm digging out of the compost pile that recurring bouts of depression have created and which have really hurt me mentally as I think about what my priorities need to be in order to be truly "well". When there's just too much around you that needs doing and you don't have the motivation to do even one of them, you end up overwhelmed and doing nothing (which, fyi, is very depressing). Anyone else detect an ugly cycle here? In any case, each project finished, each pile of rubbish cleared, lightens my spirit and brings me that much closer to wholeness and better health.
Time to eat lunch, so I'll close. Except that I feel more movement in the pile of "ought to do" things coming on...
