I guess the CISSP test did a brilliant job of keeping me distracted last week.
This week... I guess there are some difficult moments. Some beautiful ones, everytime I remember that if I reach out there's always a hug within fingertip distance -- but those quiet ones in between are a little hard.
"Post-partum", eh? Hormones suck.
But, true to monstre form -- I've officially turned the house upside down trying to chase the ghosts away with busywork. New shelves, new living room, new entryway, gardening, yellow crocuses and brilliant red tulips.
If I'm lucky, I'll have both tired and cried myself out enough that I'll sleep tonight.
Tomorrow there's lunch with a lady and a baby boy, sushi and chocolate chip cookies. Tomorrow there's gardening and planting and maybe another fresh ginger cake (let me know if you want the recipe it's brilliant!), and I've learned to cook fish like nobody's business, encrusted with herbs from the garden that will have to be harvested and frozen for winter soon. I haven't had a meal in the last two weeks that didn't at least have three types of vegetable, and my tomatoes are still blooming.
And now, it is the time on sprockets when we vacuum.
By the way, "Tipping the Velvet" is a BBC very-mini-series loaned to us by a couple of excellent folks. It's brilliant in a tragic tranny lesbian sort of way. The proof that hormone action was rife was the fact that I was in tears by the end of the first episode.
I just got an email reply from my cousins in France who I'd only written with the news this morning. Their outpouring of love begat another river.
It's funny, but the midwives were right. Just Saturday I was thinking that it was "all over" and even attempted to be flippant that all that was left was the "waiting game".
This morning's hangover reminded me that I hadn't been sober since that thought.
Tonight the wine slept in the cave, and I kissed my beloved every time I had a terrible thought.
This rollercoaster I'm on? I've seen it before. It hasn't got me beat by a longer shot than spitting the moon.