I am entirely spent. My feet hurt, my back is tired, and I have cut off all of my fingernails that haven't already broken at the quick. Other than a couple things to be put away, my house is clean. Even the garage looks fantastic, mostly organized, and the floor is empty and swept (and I might have turned that leaf blower on it for fun). The grass and concrete looked better yesterday, but more leaves fell, so I have gone backwards just a little bit out there. Overall, it feels so much better today. I think I filled the outside trash can halfway with all the cat and dog hair that I removed from under the dressers and along the baseboards. I don't think the house has been this clean in the nooks and crannies since January.
Why all the anxiety over the cleanliness of my house? It's almost over, that's why. After a year and a half, the man is roughly 90% of the way home. Technically, we are in the same time zone right now. But there is only so much flying he can do in a day, and he stopped several hundred miles from home to sleep it off a bit. Hopefully that means he will be in a good mood when he lands. He usually isn't. When he comes home, he usually stumbles down the halls of the airport, tired and burned out. I'd like him to smile when he walks off the plane this time, just this once.
The animals are traveling with him. I spent most of my evening shopping for a new cat and dog like I'm having young grandkids come visit for Christmas. I bought toys, treats, and potty facilities for the new babies. I hope they like me. I'm as nervous to meet his calico cat as I am worried that Athena won't behave when there is a scary man in the house. And I don't know how to take care of a special needs dog. I bought a lot of puppy training pads and a mega pack of small chewies that I can rapid-fire at him as a teaching reward. But most of all, I hope for good news at his first vet visit tomorrow night. The little guy could use a miracle.
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