And that suits me just fine.
Originally my plan was to spend last weekend at home and up in the city, making chocolates, hanging out with the dog, and overall just chillin'. That did not happen,
Not one bit.
I managed to get the norovirus gut bug from hell starting Thursday night. To put it in perspective, I slept on the bathroom floor for two days. I don't remember Friday. Of which I am probably very appreciative. I just got back to real food yesterday, if that gives you an idea of what tore through my system. But that is mostly taken care of.
Between that, COVID last month, and whatever-the-hell I had in September, I got sick more in four months than I have in the past two years. I think. I may be having selective memory. But at least I had actual sick leave thanks to New Mexico law this year that got me through COVID. The other two times have blessedly been over weekends or vacations. That week of COVID would have cleared out my originally given three days that I had last year leaving me with nothing for the various migraines that I have begun to have over the past year (since my hysterectomy they have been rare, but more as of late). Thank you, New Mexico, for ensuring that I have reasonable sick leave!
So I got to spend the time Dad was in town for the parental units' anniversary mostly out of commission. And that means that I didn't get to visit like I would have liked. It also meant that my expected partial weekend on my own was a little less enjoyable than planned. Instead, I chose to spend this weekend at home instead spending New Year's weekend up with Mom. I needed a break.
And that means that I am spending Christmas with the dog at home without the pressure of cooking, appearing put together, and facing the outpouring of spoons that I just don't have. Boss gave me Tuesday off, so my weekend is an extra day longer. I have me. I have the dog. I'll have spoon recovery. I'm good.
On the dog. Dad found a lump on the pooch's side that I didn't know of since it isn't a place I usually scritch. So there is a vet trip on Friday and back to Albuquerque. Hoping that he just has a lipoma that can be ignored, but I need to make sure. I'm not really freaking out about it yet since there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, I'll panic eventually once I am closer to the visit/already in the visit, but for now I am calm.
But for now, no panicking, no people, no (or little) stress. I am using a couple spoons for dinner tonight, but those will be easily recovered tomorrow.
Oh! And on spoons: Mousie (the original imaginary friend), spoon (spoonies), and teacup (TEA!) are about to be on my arm. All based on my momma's sketch after mentioning that I wanted these things on a wrist tattoo. Here. Have a sketch.
