It's been a week already?

Sorry, y'all. Our evenings seem to be taken up by grocery shopping, picking up Rx's, a whole lot of driving, some of it in driving rain (pun intended), leaving little time to sit at the computer and blog.

This week we have a dental appointment for Middlest followed by a re-check of the new contacts. I spent an hour or so today sorting through the stuff that had piled up on the footstool by my desk, and then clearing all manner of stuff off said desk.

I'm starting to feel like myself with the Lexapro. Middlest, who has been on one sort or another prescription since middle school, says it takes about three weeks to find out if a new medicine is effective, or if something else needs to be tried. In my case, I could not be more pleased. My emotions are still there, and my speed of thought is almost what I'm used to. I just don't feel frazzled.

The nightly, low-dose muscle relaxer is doing its part. I'm now aware of when I'm tensing up, and I can consciously choose to stretch and relax, or flex, or whatever needs to be done. A serendipitous benefit is that it no longer hurts to rise from a sitting position, or to descend into a seated position on, say, a standard height commode. I've been using the handicapped loo whenever possible, both for the grab rail, and because there is less whining from my knees and hips. I noticed today while rising to lead the music in sacrament meeting, that my joints were not grumbling. Those choir seats are not designed for aging bodies, because my hips rest lower than my knees, even if I take my shoes off, which mostly I do.

Barefoot, but distinctly non-pregnant.

Thursday night after work I had driven over to Arlington and picked up Fourthborn, because we had planned to go to the doll meetup at the pizza restaurant; however, I drove home in a deluge that was nearly as intense as the frightening one when we were driving along the Great Lakes in June. By the time I got home, I was tired and anxious, and the Tardis had wet brakes and squeaky belts. So we did a Plan B dinner at home. No way was I going back out in that. I took her home last night, after we all had worked a bit more in the studio.

Middlest graciously stayed home, instead of accompanying me as usual, because I needed some alone time. And I got just enough of it.

Yesterday I picked up the red scarf that I started months and months ago from the red bulky acrylic yarn that Wes and Sarah gave me for my birthday a couple of years ago. Our stake is working with a local synagogue to provide hats and scarves for the homeless. I already had half of a scarf, and yesterday I reached almost the 3/4 mark. I will finish it this week and block it, then see if I have enough to knit a hat, or if I will need to buy more yarn.

Had an interesting experience with overwhelm yesterday while we were working on the studio. We got nearly another quarter of the floor cleared, and a shelf emptied and reorganized, and one of the "Mom needs to wrangle this" piles reduced by half. I thought it was my overwhelm, and it crept into my room, but it turns out that the majority of it was contained in one storage tub full of stuff a friend had given me when she was decluttering (in the days when I had not yet learned to say "no, thank you"). There was some seriously crabby juju in there, but I got everything sorted, and there's a nice pile by the door that will go to the thrift store on my way to work one day this week, and my house feels clear and safe again. Middlest was able to take a few items, and we sent more home with Fourthborn, and I kept the felt and one pillowcase charmingly stamped with little houses.

I got a nap after church, and I am blessed and happy, and I am sleepy again. So I am going to turn on the white noise machine, say my prayers, and call it a day.