What was I thinking. Here I am, at the start line of yet another major life transition, and what, I'm going to put the pipe down? Walk away from my only (pathetic, yet still valid) form of personal therapy? I think I'm just taking inventory again. Because that's what we do. Things change and we run about reevaluating everything's importance. Or, at least that's what I do. I'm frankly a bit tired of feverishly re-tabulating my life and satisfaction levels at every turn, but as long as the transitions keep coming, I suppose I'll keep running amok with my clipboard and calculator.
Things are going really well. Actually, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm at least one step ahead of my emotions, and can restrain myself from saying the Worst Thing Possible at all times. It does feel like a bit of a tightrope act, keeping everyone happy and harmonious, but I just keep thinking that if I can keep it going for like, a month, maybe the plaster will set and it will be easy. I don't mean to paint a bad picture here. We're good. We're happy. But, after ten years, sometimes people get into bad habits and triggers develop and everyone gets unbearably sensitive to everything, and even innocent phrases and facial expressions get misconstrued and it all piles up to look daunting, even though it's just a big stack of nothing.
Meanwhile, the Cap'n has spent the last two days plotting the destruction of every caterpillar on our property. Last year they really went too far, almost completely decimating every leaf on our two largest trees. They couldn't give a rats ass for the others, but those two are DELICIOUS. They hatched the other day and there were thousands of the most adorable little itty bitty caterpillars everywhere. The Cap'n called me in a panic while I was at the store. I should purchase anything that claims to kill caterpillars! They're everywhere! He's tied a toilet brush to an extension pole and has spent all morning mushing their little bodies against the branches! We got some stuff, he spent all yesterday climbing way too high to get it everywhere, and my god, this morning. We went outside and found millions of tiny caterpillar bodies, all hanging from the branches by their final silk strands like sad, dead, miniature marionettes. The Cap'n practically did a bell kick he was so happy to see so much larval death.
The Cap'n and Poopies left this afternoon to go hang out with some friends of ours on their land nearby. I would have loved to have gone, but we had people checking in, and it's pretty dumb to have a lodge and leave it on a Saturday. I can't remember if I've ever been here ALONE. I keep patting myself down trying to remember what I've forgotten. Is Poopies sleeping and will awaken momentarily and I'll have to tend to him? No. Rooms to clean? No. Is the Cap'n going to emerge momentarily with another scheme to rid the world of caterpillars and need a spectator? No. It's just me. Gardening, cleaning, blogging. It's nice, but I can't wait until they're back, which is also nice.