This trip has been utterly exhausting—I don’t remember the last time I felt well-rested.
Oh wait, yes I do: Grand Cayman.
According to my calculations, we returned to Mesa exactly three weeks ago today. It seems like three years. Was it really not even a month ago that I was walking on the beach barefoot, totally carefree except for the thought of ultraviolet rays and sand crabs? Impossible!
And here I am, completely sore from the cartilage in my ears to the tendons in my ankles—my body aches in a way it hasn’t ached since the last time I tried to do something this ridiculous in only six days. That must be my problem—I really do enjoy thrifting and painting and decorating and sewing; just not on a time-restrictive schedule. I seem to make my own emergencies, though. If I would just give myself enough time, I wouldn’t feel so rushed at the end. Silly me.
Today is the day we will see the fruits of our labours—the table and chairs are going to be amazing, the window treatments should (cross fingers!) be hung and lovely, and with any luck, we’ll start the fun stuff—pictures on walls.
But for now, the worst thing I could be doing is not sleeping. I must apologise for my absence on the Internet scene for the past (and next) few days. I barely have made time to update my own blog, and I won’t be reading many others until this project is finished. Also, I have a slew of emails to respond to, and I will—I promise. I appreciate all the insightful comments on my Bristol Palin Sex Talk post, and intend to address them as soon as I can clear room in my mind, aside from the smell of Behr™ semi-gloss latex paint in Harmonic Tan, Tobacco Road, and Willow Herb. Oy vey.