Isn’t this like some movie I heard about?
Adrenaline is a useful thing. The last few days we’ve been frantically cleaning out Mom’s house before the closing (which went off without a hitch, so I can breathe a little easier now). It’s not that I didn’t leave enough time to do everything, it’s that I trusted my sister to do her part. That was a mistake that I knew I was making even as I was doing it — she’s not the most reliable person, and she depended on her husband who can be counted on to go fishin’ when the weather is good but little else.
Anyway, I haven’t needed any extra painkillers for the past couple of days — I just kept working steadily and took frequent breaks and we got everything out and the floors swept and all that stuff you forget to do when you’re never coming back… (once we left a closet full of clothes — boy was that ever embarrassing! — so we check extra carefully now) and had the closing and drove home after a decent night in a hotel (whirlpool room ;)) and Now. I. Hurt.
There has to be a happy medium somewhere, doesn’t there? Some point where I can not-hurt and also be not-frantic?
