The thing about my traveling is the effect it has on the girls. It's stressful for them, no matter what I do to make it calm. For a big trip, like the wedding, I haul the suitcase up a week in advance and leave it out, tossing in things a bit every day. I read that this provides visual cues that change is coming, that I'm going to be going some place and won't be home. For overnight or a couple of days away stay, I pack the night before. It's probably as much stress when it's an overnight as it is when it's a week as cats really don't have a concept of time. "I'll be back on Sunday," means I'm gone as long as "I'll be back next Tuesday". Add to this the need to have someone look in on them. Although they love Pam, now that they know her, she couldn't stop in on the last trip and I had to hire a service. Rob is great and I have no worries, but the girls don't know him yet and are scared. He never sees them when he stops by to fill dishes.
So there were back-to-back trips last month. And there were day trips for work which necessitated my leaving the house by 6:45 and not returning before 6:45 p.m. Even if I was home, I wasn't "home". I was tired and not able to relate to them as I usually did.
I came home from my mother's birthday celebration and unpacked the car. I started to look through the mail on the table in the living room and Mija went to jump up onto that table to command my attention. Also on the table is my sewing box. She hit the box and both her and the box tumbled to the floor.
She was terrified and took off. It was a good 2 hours before she came out from under the cedar chest in the office to see if I was furious with her. I was worried it had fallen on her but she was okay.
It's a mess. And you know what, it's still on the floor. I look at it and think, "When I clean this up, I need to really clean it. I probably have stuff that I don't need anymore (like 3 pair of sewing scissors)." Plus, I don't know if the box top just popped off or if it broke at the hinges. If it broke, then the box is no good. I'm pretty sure my parents gave me this some 45 years ago, back when I was sewing up a storm at home. I did scrape the stuff that rolled under the recliner over to the pile.
I don't have the desire to clean it up. This weekend, I tackled the papers in my home office. How could I underpay the Internet bill by 4 cents? Seriously. I did wash. I stripped the bed. All the dishes are done. I read another chapter in, of all things, the book I'm reading about tidying. When I go out the front door, I have to step over the mess, but clean it up? I just don't feel like it.
I'm chalking it up the the general tiredness I'm working through. Pieces of life are getting sorted out and I just haven't, mentally, reached this point in the journey. The girls aren't chasing spools of thread under the recliner so there's not a reason to clear the pile. Check back next weekend. Maybe I'll have done it then.
Beverage: English Breakfast tea