Aftermath.

I am finally on the mend.  Throat still swollen, jaw still achy, but I can actually DO things again.  What am I doing?  Why, moving to Chicago with the Significant Other in a vanishingly small amount of time.  Thirteen days to do what should have been spread out over a month.  The SO’s mum is gifting us with some gorgeous antique furnishings that have been gathering spiderwebs in her garage for a year.  We spent most of the weekend cleaning and polishing, but there’s still plenty to be done there.  Need to repack some boxes (kitchen stuff; dishes and glassware mostly), figure out a safe way to  pack up a mirror, clean up a free office chair my boss gave me, beat some giant rugs to death, pick up my poor broken computer from the shop…the list is endless.  And I’m trying to finish a book for work before I leave; I already have over forty hours this week.  Plus the SO has a million going-away shindigs, and the family would like to see me before I fly away, and we’re still house-sitting until Monday, which has been lovely but I’m ready to not make the drive out to that side of town anymore.  Is insanity.

Also, I am not drinking again, because my immune system needs all the help it can get.  It’ll be two weeks this Friday with no booze…AND no caffeine.  I don’t even recognize myself.

Soon it will all be over.  And then the semester will start, and I’ll be right back in the hamster wheel.  None of this is by way of complaint.  I’m shockingly happy.  Spending too much of the summer down sick makes me appreciate the simple fact that I’m well enough to keep doing things.

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