Yesterday I spent a few hours cleaning my closet. Now I have several drawers to clean and a few bags of old clothes to get rid of, but at least I won't be taking my jewelry out of a huge pile on my dresser or rummaging through piles of t-shirts and shoes to find something to wear. I can't believe the way I've been living for the past few months.
Was the Centennial everything I could have wished for? Everything except a money-maker. We'll deal with that later, and it will be ten times more grueling than the 70-80 hour weeks. The festival itself was so packed with potential memories, it felt like living in the DVR, speeding up and slowing down at will. The one thing I didn't allow myself to envision was the rainiest parade day in my history. And yet, it was still the best parade ever.
In the meantime, Charlie and I now have a new kitten (rescued from the Humane Society on Thursday, June 21) and LJs for life (purchased on the same day). The new baby, the red-headed Henry Tudor, is now sneezing away with upper respiratory (why can't they do anything about this problem at the HS?) and Colin is already sick, as well. Nice.
Yes, I'm back. Same stuff, different day. And there's more comfort in that than anyone can imagine.