One day at a time.

I’m up and down.

Yesterday was a pretty good day, even if I did have a moment during church when I was convinced my grandfather had just died. (He hadn’t.) It’s quiet around the house, but it’s no weirder than when Mr. D would go on business trips or out of town interviews or weekends away for bachelor parties. As the week goes on, I think it’ll stop feeling like he’s just gone for a few days—but then, I’ll be getting used to him being gone at the same time, so hopefully it’ll just gradually transition into a new normal.

Still, I have my moments of sadness. I wouldn’t wish them away, though—they reassure me that I’m still feeling things. I’ve been down the path of numb depression and I’d rather not go back there, thankyouverymuch.

Being alone is also tough because I don’t really want to do things—I’m always thinking, “Oh, I can do that tomorrow.” So my new challenge is going to be avoiding procrastination. And whatever the version of procrastination is where you just don’t get it done, ever. Like cooking dinner—I haven’t done that yet. I don’t really like cooking for myself (and I’ve been sad, so I haven’t been really hungry). But it’s not healthy for me to have toast three times a day. Dinner must be cooked! And the gym must be gone to! And the apartment must be kept clean and tidy so getting it ready for showings isn’t a major task!

Over all of this, what’s keeping me sane is knowing that this new normal won’t have to be normal for very long. Only four weeks until the apartment is packed up and moved, after all. And then only two more weeks until I move out entirely, followed by one week to breathlessly anticipate going to visit Mr. D, capped off by three short weeks finishing up things at work and saying goodbye to this city.

But for now, it’s one day at a time.

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