My cats are pouting.
They've lost their freedom, as the killer cat has returned home.
I've found all my clothes, I've made it through a 6 hour shift and everything is slowly getting put back in our basement dwelling. The journey of the sewage flood is coming to a close.
Life is getting back to where it was 5 months ago. Part of the proof, is that Psycho Kitty has come home. Now all doors must remain shut, or he will stop at nothing to kill my cats.
All that's left, is for the 95 year old g'ma to come home.
hopefully she doesn't stir things up by burning us down this time
Well, most of life is returning.
In some cases, things are changing. We have a new kitchen, and I'll have a new model of spouse.
extreme makeover ...
It's now time to prepare myself for mi esposo's top surgery in 6 weeks.
Only one and a half months until my love no longer has breasts.
The 2nd phase of this male transformation will begin. I've managed to make it through the hormones by setting rules, then breaking the rules, then dealing with the fact that this truly is happening.
No denying it now.
There is no possibility of Papi possibly having a change of heart once that scalpel hits that silky soft skin.
In my new reality, I will caress a pair of matching scars. That is of course, after the tubes, bandages, marking down of secretions from said glands and administering of pain medication.
It will be a test for my heart.
change ... she is a comin'
My love was supposed to get lots of exercise in for this surgery. So far, I've seen a lot of pudding being eaten since the tooth, but not exercise.
Actually the pudding was in place before the tooth extraction, but it just seemed to flow right through with a perfect excuse as to why there can't be healthy food ingested.
I learned a long time ago that I can't change anybody.
My love has to learn lessons without my help. If Papi doesn't exercise enough, or keeps on eating the pudding, ...
which seems to be swapped for the ice cream and cookies ...
... then there could be a few problems; the surgery could turn out a little less than desired, and the hormones could help the cholesterol increase just like in a bio-male.
I could be suffering grief a 2nd time around when mi esposo drops from heart failure, but that's just my 'what if' thinking coming into play.
Right now there's enough to deal with thinking about the next 6 weeks.
one fret at a time ... we also learned that, didn't we?
In 2 weeks, I'll be at full time work.
In 4 weeks, my love and I will be on vacation.
In 6 weeks ...
Suddenly, I don't feel so well.
I'm pretty sure it's not the baby food that's done it.