:::::long drawn out sigh:::::
Honestly, I don't know where to begin. I know I should update my journal but life is happening so fast, I can hardly keep up. I don't even have time to stop and think.
As you probably know, Andi's here. She came in late Friday night. I got a flat tire on our way to get her from the airport. Actually two flat tires. Only one spare. You do the math. Made for a very eventful (stressful and painful) night.
I severely crushed my finger while trying to remove the spare from the back of the car. That's just one reason I've been a little quiet around here. Robbie could probably explain it better, since she was with me. I was mostly traumatized, bleeding on the sidewalk, crying actual tears, afraid I chopped the tip of my finger right off. The finger is still swollen and leaking. The tip is completely numb and the nail is purple. I have to keep it wrapped when I'm out and about. Otherwise, it's hella pain if I knock it or bump it. That's the left hand.
My right hand looks like that of a burn victim. My eczema may not be eczema. But I've yet to have it diagnosed. I've been loading it with so many medications and lubricants - and they seem to be working. But nothing is actually stopping it from spreading all over my hands a little at a time. It is so bad that my hands are cracking and bleeding. So I wrap my hands in gauze during the day.
We've been insanely busy trying to settle in our new home. We're assembling shelves and drawers, getting the kitchen and bathroom organized and making the livingroom livable. The days are flying by and there's still so much to do. Andi's stuff isn't even here yet. That's gonna be a whole 'nother process.
I don't see any downtime in my near future. I have to keep going while I have the energy. I seem to be at least one half step outside of my body. It's the only way to get through. And obviously there's some kind of message in, around or about my hands. I'll get it ... when I come up for air.
Aside from all the mishaps, the lack of sleep and the self-torture, Andi and I are getting along well. We seem to have very similar taste in home decor. I'm rediscovering a long lost love for Merlot. And she got her first taste of why I'm a Mraz Spaz. And I admit, it's been wonderful waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Sleeping in has never been so sweet.