Burlap Soul

Life is stressful. Work is especially stressful. But mostly? Things are just constantly busy. I haven't slept through the night in three months, and I honestly can't tell you the last time I didn't have an itinerary and a million errands to run. Christmas, probably? Who knows?

This past week has been one of the most difficult yet, and it's almost always because of work. Friday I worked a ten hour day with tears constantly brimming in my eyes and rage so stifled that I nearly packed my stuff and left. We've decided that if things don't change by the wedding, then I'm quitting. I've been down some hard and indecisive roads in my 29 years on this planet, but I am now more certain about what I want to do than ever before. I always come back to two things - photography and animals. So what the hell am I doing wasting time with anything else? Exactly. Come June, there's going to be yet more changes afoot, but ironically, it's those changes that will allow me to relax and remember who I am and just who I want to be. It's the next six months that will tax me the most I think and I must remember that June 22nd will come. I just have to be patient tolerant.

Yesterday I attended my first dress fitting. In the next month I have to find both my shoes and my undergarments so that the hem and bustle can be determined. We've finished paying for our ceremony site and I've already seen my wedding ring. (It was custom made to match my engagement ring.) J's wedding band has been sitting in our bedroom for a month and I'm continually surprised to see him try it on and try to get used to it as often as he does. We have our vows, we have our music, we have our 40s memorabilia for the reception site. My mother has decided to go ahead and have her knee replacement surgery in less than a month. Yesterday we drove through the wedding district and looked at shop windows and she is already excited about being able to wear a short dress and dance without pain at our wedding. We have a photographer, an officiant that we love, a florist that we equally love, a reception site that is perfect for our theme, a classic car for our limo, a breathtaking ceremony site, groomsmen, bridesmaids, and ourselves. The rest is details that I will gladly handle.

We have a closing date on the house we are trying to buy, but I don't dare say that it's ours until the keys are in our hands. We have empty boxes piled high throughout the condo, but I don't dare fill them until it's official. We have had it appraised, inspected and signed off on, but I don't dare say that it's a done deal.

For as much as I hate my job and what it does to me mentally and physically, I cannot deny that it has gotten us this far. I also cannot deny that I am brimming with the most cautious optimistic happiness I have ever felt in my life. I cannot deny that even though my life is not currently perfect, it is still on the verge of being awfully damn close. Every day I pray, every day I hope, every day I ask for another door to open, every day I push a little closer to Dreams.

Tonight my 20 minute commute home turned into a lovely four-and-a-half hours due to this.

I know there are people out there that can drive during snow without incident. But why do we have none of those people here? Please? Can someone tell me why? Because my back, my knee, my head and my car are all very pissed and want answers.

Tonight we went to the grocery store because we actually needed to buy groceries. The reason that I emphasize this is because some people in this area believe that the apocalypse is coming tomorrow and therefore, buying every loaf of bread and every carton of milk in the store will ward off cannibalistic psychosis the demons.

After braving the massive amounts of shoppers searching frantically for their last provisions before hibernation, we had to drive past the local hardware store on our way out of the madness. Lo and behold, what did I see? Someone loading a shiny new snowblower into the back of his truck.

What. The. Hell. We are in Kentucky people. This is not the frozen tundra, this is not the Second Coming. It is snow and there will be ice in it. It will not force us underground. There will be no bomb shelters. You can relax. Seriously.

No, you know what? If you're that freaked out by this weather, you are more than welcome to stay home. That will make my life so much easier.

*sigh* Michigan is laughing at us so hard right now.

There are all these great moments from the past year going through my head - but everything is jumbled, wrapped up in anxiety and whizzing by in a blur before I can even process them. Even when the processing is there, the retention is gone before I can even write anything down.

I wish I could remember the details, I wish you could have been there, I wish that all my memories weren't so fleeting, I wish that life didn't move so fast so suddenly, and I wish that I could just stop and feel all of this change and joy without feeling guilty for stopping.

Months ago: J. and I finally addressing our Save the Dates and then counting to three before synchronizing the Putting On of The Stamps and laughing hysterically. Not because we were synchronizing our stamping, but because the stamps mean that it is real and therefore actually happening so we had to laugh at our anxiety and drama and then just count to three and jump in together.

Weeks ago: J.'s friends from Detroit coming to see us and all of us hanging out playing card games and medieval board games I didn't even know existed right after we had placed our intial offer on the house, but before we knew it would be accepted. A moment of pure entertainment in our little condo while on the cusp of such change.

Friday: The day we were supposed to close on the house. Of course it was delayed because the seller is a bank and therefore has every right to drag their feet and make us their bitch. The home buying process is not for wimps. I haven't slept in weeks. We are now being told that we will close next Wednesday. As I've said from the beginning, I won't believe it until the keys are in my hand. And even then, it's a crap shoot.

Thursday: J. sending me stargazer lillies (my favorite) at work with a card stating only, "A June Reminder" so that A) I could proudly display them and breathe their wondrous scent all day and B) I could remember just what in the hell I continue to work there for.

Someday last week: Me driving home from a long day at work with stress on my shoulders, but remembering exactly who I am when I saw the beautiful colors of an evening sunset bouncing off all the frozen trees and power lines as they started to thaw. I don't even reach for my camera anymore I'm so preoccupied, but rather I just watch the sun and the light and try to freeze it in my mind, try to close my distractions out and let nature put her arms around me and give me a much needed squeeze.

Ongoing: J.'s laughter when we were walking through the home improvement store and I grabbed his arm and asked him to physically restrain me from walking into the paint section. I've always been a person that obsesses about color, but only because I'm so incredibly sensitive and moved by it. (I actually considered going to grad school to become what's known as a "color therapist." Yes, you read that right.) This week has been no exception. The current colors in The House are so goddamned hideous that they make me physically ill and I'm so eager to change them that I've gone mad with Paint Swatch Obsession. My two most hated colors on the planet? Hunter green and dark baby-shit yellow. The previous owners favorite colors in the whole wide world? Hunter green and dark baby-shit yellow. I can't wait to post photos when we're actually in the house. Their obsession with Hunter Green really seriously goes Above. And. Beyond. (One hint: Hunter Green bulbs in the porch lights, people. Hunter. Green. Porch. Lights.)

This morning: J.'s unbelievably raucous laughter when I told him of the sex dream I had this morning where we were in a beautiful adobe hut in the desert overlooking the Grand Canyon and as we were in the act, I was staring at the bright silver door knobs and fixtures on the bright peach cabin door and trying not to get angry about the fact that these people let the colors clash so awfully.

Something has got to give. I need sleep. I need to feel practical again. I need to be living in this house already and concentrating only on wedding plans and where to put the couch. Again, the experiences are here, my daily life is continuing on. It's just all so damn fast sometimes that I feel I might just collapse from this Adrenaline Rush of Constant Change. The memories don't always last, the words don't always get written down, the blog entries don't always come. But in this giant pool of chaos and change, I can only hope that they will stay there swirling in the current until I can stop the flood and wade in for them slowly, more determined, more relaxed and more ready than ever to give bring them up for the air they so deserve.

One of our kitties is very, very sick. Guinness hasn't eaten for three days (but still drinks water) and is not doing well at all. She hasn't used the bathroom, she's dehydrated, lethargic and her breath smells like strong ammonia. Plus, this morning when the vet pulled her out of the cat carrier, she was extremely jaundiced. He's thinking possible Fatty Liver, but I'm most terrified of Renal Failure. He's going to hospitalize her, put her on IV fluids, run tests and give us an answer this afternoon or tomorrow.

Please would you say a prayer for her? Our kitties are our babies as you well know, but Guinness? Guinness is special because she's Daddy's Girl.*

* (Use the login info for the photolog for that one. Don't have it? Email me.)

Update: The vet is still stumped. X-rays reveal no blockages, no tumors, no stones, nothing that could be stopping her from eating. Next we wait on the lab to return blood test results. She'll be hospitalized for at least two more days while they try to get more fluids in her. She's currently on IV fluids and the dehydration is improving. They also gave her an appetite stimulant and she still wasn't interested in food. However, this is Guinness and she is A) really afraid of strangers and B) does not like to be bothered while she's eating. It's anyone guess at this point, but we are worried sick about what those test results are going to reveal. None of the possible diagnoses look nice and easy. Again, keep your prayers coming for our little Guinner-Bear. It's just not the same without her here.

*sigh* Did I mention we close on the house tomorrow too? And we still haven't packed a single thing?

Um, Yeah.

Our beloved Guinness passed away at 3:28am this morning. She was wrapped in towels, covered in blankets and lying on a heating pad snuggled between mommy and daddy by a warm fire. She was six-and-a-half years old, but her impact on our lives is eternal. There are not that many chocolate kitties in the world and I can assure you that there will never be another Guinness. Ever.

We closed on our new home today and all we can think about is how incredibly empty it's going to be without our ever-chatty and spunky Guinner-Bear. Please say a prayer for her and for all the other animals in our home that simply don't know what to do with themselves now that she's gone. We love you, Guinner-Bear. You will always be our favorite drunken Irish baby. May you always have plenty of Stinky Daddy Feet to smell in Heaven. We miss you baby and it won't be the same without you - but I'm sure that's exactly what you would've wanted. Kisses, hugs, baby talk and lots of sunbeams to you, our wonderful Baker's Chocolate Baby.

I've put up lots of pictures of the new house over at the photolog. Email me for the username and password if you don't remember or don't have it. Other than that, that's pretty much all I've got for you at this point. To be honest, I'm amazed I found the words to write about anything at all really.

We are swallowed in grief right now. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I've wanted so badly to just erase the past week and try again for a different ending. It's all just such a damn shock. She was the baby, this wasn't supposed to happen. Add to that the fact that the vet still doesn't quite understand what went wrong (even though he is a great vet) and we are just beside ourselves with grief, shock and crushing guilt. She was here on Tuesday and then gone on Wednesday. WTF? What if we could've caught it sooner? What were we missing? How did this happen so fast? What can we do to go back and change time? Please, what. can. we. do. to stop this pain? Tell me please and I'll do it. No questions asked.

Guinness was our loud and spunky personality kitty. She was the one that grumbled and flopped on the floor when we came home. She was the one that sat and kneaded you right on your head just after sunrise and yelled in your ear until you either petted her or got up. She was the one that loved Daddy so much that she became part of his entire image. Every time we drew funny pictures of each other, you always drew a little funny and loud chocolate kitty at his feet. She was his shadow and we often joked that if he were a pirate, she would have been the parrot on his shoulder. He is lost, I am lost, the other animals are lost, we are all just fucking lost.

Crushed is not the word for this feeling. We break into tears at least once every hour and wail for the parallel universe that we somehow did not end up in. The place where she is okay and getting better and we are all excited and happy about giving all of our animals a new home where they will be so much happier together. Please, someone, tell me how to get back there because I'm not sure if we can keep coming home to this horribly quiet new place that will never again feel like home without our amazing, precious, funny, and horribly missed Guinner-Bear.