Is it weird that I am not at all obsessed about the outcome of this cycle? Perhaps not, considering my utter lack of hope that it was successful, but it’s pretty weird just how much I’m not noticing any pseudo-symptoms. It’s kind of a relief, but at the same time, I wonder if all the thrill is gone from the TWW. I know, I know. Talk to me in a few days when I’m not just 7 DPO, and it will likely be a different story. I hope not, though. I can’t stand to get my hopes up.
In other exciting news–at least for us bibliophiles–we got bookcases today. Multiple big bookcases to house what has become quite a library (all in piles on the floor and in storage bins, mind you)! I will be sure to post photos later once everything is assembled (yes, I have to assemble them), and all the books are sorted. I spent most of yesterday organizing our books into categories, rooms, authors’ last names, level of potential guest enjoyment, etc. We’re admittedly very odd about our books. We love them. At a few points, I was actually overcome with the need to read and read and read until I got through them all. (I’m picturing that tragic Twilight Zone, “Time Enough at Last” as I write this.) It’s a sickness, I know. I plan to get some help one of these days.
On an entirely different note, I’ve made a new friend! Weirdly enough, I responded to an ad a woman placed wanting someone to walk with, and we’ve hit it off. She’s also a newcomer to my little town, although she’s been here for three months. She’s been showing me around, and we took an amazing walk yesterday that led us through vineyards. It was stunning, and today I am sore from our three-mile jaunt. We go again tomorrow, and I’m thrilled. This is a pretty big step for me, the introvert in the relationship. J is usually the one to charm others and make them our friends, so I feel proud of myself in this big-girl, I-just-tied-my-own-shoes sort of way.
And for the final compelling subject of the day: our cats. They won’t go outside. They’re driving me nuts. The two older cats (whom we call the big cats) will sometimes venture onto the front porch at night, but if we close the door, they cry this terrible cry that always makes me give in because I feel that somehow I must be traumatizing them. But they need to go outside and explore. This place is incredibly cat-friendly and cat-safe, but they won’t go out. Our youngest cat (whom we call the little one) won’t even set foot outside because she is terrified (due to the turkey incident, I’m sure). I’m at a loss. It has been over three weeks now, and I never expected that my adventurous indoor/outdoor cats would suddenly become housecats. This is not okay in a two-bedroom apartment where I am constantly tripping over them and where the litterbox must now be changed twice a day! Any suggestions any of you lovely readers may have would be greatly appreciated.
And that, my friends, is the end of my rambling word-spew for today.