The Push

Inspirational song: Pressure (Billy Joel)

Starting to get goofy now. Nothing makes sense. I've lost my sense of balance and fine motor skills from my hands. I started buying frozen meals so I don't have to put effort into keeping us fed. My work/break cycles are rotating fast. I get a half a box packed now before I sit down and stare at the television, uncomprehending. But the man promises me we are in good shape. Once we carry out the furniture tomorrow, he swears we will see how far we've come, and how little left there is. If I could get a decent night's sleep, I might be able to see it too.

In February, I kept reminding the man that I was not going to be able to do much of anything for this move. Back then I wasn't allowed to lift anything heavier than Athena. So how is it I'm carrying forty pound boxes, moving furniture, ripping carpet, and trying to keep up with MacGyver? Every day, with every completed project, I built up stupid levels of overconfidence. My body is dropping hints that I may have gone too far. I just have to hold out one more week. Then everything that needs doing will be done. But no pressure, right?

I wish I knew how to relax like the pride does. Zoe was chilled out in the shade by the garage, like she didn't have a care in the world. How I envy that.