Once Mother Nature stops really torturing, beautiful things start happening. This particular morning reminds me of when we all moved into a house in Guilford 15 years ago. It's cold & has a soggyness to it, but it's pure Spring out there. There's just a little fog, the sky is that blue-lavender you only see in Spring.
It's going into my last week in this apartment. There isn't anything huge to do, just a series of small things that I'm stressing out over. The last week is always The Push. At least my back isn't as bad as it was yesterday but my stomach is in total uproar. Both the apt. manager and my aide are arriving at 1. Which is stressing me, because how am I gonna set my aide up for the
day to do all that needs doing, and read and sign and ask questions of the manager, whose time is beyond booked? I've never seen how one little thing can screw up plans so well as since I started dealing in "services". Any time you have no choice it's an opportunity to grow your patience, but this is ridiculous.
The Door Is Ajar.
5 days ago