The upstairs kitchen is a mess. This is roughly how it was left when grandma moved. We have already packed over half of the stuff jammed into the cupboards and still have half to go. We spend most of yesterday going through these remaining spaces (and I really mean there were at least 10 cupboards left) plus the tops, to sort, wrap, and pack, and clean.
This process was a great reminder to me that I really don't need about half of the things I have. I am the only one who has any interest in them and the thought of someone else packing things like I've packed her stuff - ugh. To me the saddest part is that none of it's even nice. It's all plastic or made in China. It isn't heirloom, it isn't something to pass down to the grand kids. It's all commercialized crap.
And, yes. That is carpet in the kitchen.
I had my first appointment yesterday - the gal seems on it. It was a standard "get to know you" type session. Tears from me and orientation questions from her. I left exhausted and invigorated all at once. But today all I could focus on again was how much I hurt and don't hurt - just empty. The therapist explained that some of the things I recounted sounded more like PTSD than depression.So I spent much of the day trying to come to grips with the fact that I may not even have depression and trying to pinpoint what may have happened. All while being at the job I'm not over fond of but acutely aware that I should be grateful for it. Sigh.
Next appointment is next Wednesday - diving into more I'm sure. I was good to myself though - I had a deep tissue massage to correct the neck pain I've been having and I and taking 9 days off between the 22nd and Dec. 1st!
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