I've been trying to do some advance prep on Sundays so that it's easier to throw meals together during the week (yes, D will be doing more cooking once we're settled in but right now he's pretty much occupied building cabinets and putting in shelves). I get as much chopping done as possible and I'll blend up any sauces or salad dressings we're going to use (still super obsessed with my tiny blender and the lidded cups it comes with).
Our place is coming together, slowly but surely. We put in the rug that used to be in my parents' living room and we've hung some art and we're finally managing to put stuff away and clear off surfaces. It feels really good. There are more projects on the horizon, of course, and we're not nearly finished but we're *this close* to being fully functional.
Annnnd the whining - I was super cranky last week, mostly due to the fact that Circe was being restless at night, which meant we weren't getting much sleep and I still feel like I have sand trapped in my eyelid, a very minor annoyance that somehow manages to drive me completely, irrationally insane. I scratched my cornea last month and instead of getting better it just steadily accumulates more scratches. I've done two rounds of antibiotic eye drops and last week finally progressed to antibiotic eye ointment. Let me tell you, putting ointment directly on your eyeball is neither easy nor pleasant. In addition, I can't wear my contacts or mascara and my right eye is basically useless because it's constantly covered in a blurry film. It will heal and it's hardly a crisis, but I'm mourning my eyelashes - I rarely remember to check my outfit in the mirror after I get dressed, but I almost never leave the house sans mascara. Without it I feel like I'm walking around in my pajamas. Rather than fight it, I've just been wearing yoga pants and running shoes to work and now I'm in a terrible downward spiral of schlub. One more week with the ointment and hopefully I'll be back to normal. I'd like to promise myself eyelash extensions as a reward but I think letting someone without a medical degree mess around with my eyes would just be tempting fate at this point. (I'm still considering it, so I must be crazy)
Just to top it off, after over a decade of working in the lab I've suddenly developed a sensitivity to ALL types of gloves, so my hands are now a lovely shade of red with scaly patches dotted here and there (yes, I'm still wearing gloves, which is why my hands haven't healed. If I have to choose between dermatitis and exposure to hazardous chemicals, I'll live with the rash, thanks). I've ordered some fancy schmancy gloves that should work better but it's been a pain in the butt.
So yes, I'm a bit whiny lately. My eyeball saga is boring even me. My hands are gross. I need to get back into some kind of workout routine (my current excuse is that I hate working out in my glasses, which is true but I probably need to suck it up) so that actual pants are a possibility. The good news is that we found a solution for Circe's nighttime barking and I'm starting to feel human again, petty mascara woes aside. THINGS ARE LOOKING UP.