I have ants. I threw away the dog food bin that had been in the garage, along with the $50 worth of food I had just bought yesterday. To be fair, I’m not sure if this is the house’s fault or mine. It’s absolutely possible that the ants traveled in on the food bag. Needless to say, I won’t be buying dog food anymore at the local Hay and Feed store, despite how much more convenient it is.
Dealing with that was annoying. But then my dog laid down in the grass in the middle of the backyard and stayed there for an hour. I had difficulty cajoling him back into the house. This made me happy.
It was hard to come home today knowing my mother wouldn’t be here. It was okay though. I am okay. Sad, sure, but also okay. I don’t know why this continues to surprise me. I keep expecting a break down and it keeps not happening. I thought for sure I would cry tonight, but I haven’t. Tears will almost certainly come at some point and that will be okay too.
I want sleep and a day of doing nothing more than anything else right now. I just have to get through tomorrow and then enjoy the hell out of my weekend. That’s the plan anyway. I just need to buy ant-killing spray somewhere along the way.
I want to spend time this weekend enjoying my home. I want to revel in the space I have and in the comforts I have provided myself. I want to take the time to like being where I am. To sit in it for a while and smile, knowing that it’s mine. I want to breathe it in. To breathe me and my new life in. To notice the ways I have changed and that this is changing me. And to feel good about all of it.
Except maybe the fucking ants.