I took this week off work to catch up on marking, to try to find some quiet time, to get back into some sort of more regular exercise routine, to get caught up on some things around the house, to defamiliarize myself with some of my camera lenses and try to find a better creative eye….to try to find some spark.
It’s not working.
My neighbour stopped by this morning, just as I was getting ready to go out the door to take Gizmo for a checkup to see how his meds have been working, and to see what the vet had to say about his new ‘wobbliness’.
I ended up torn because I asked how things were going, knowing that there is something going on with his significant other. It’s worse than I had heard. It’s very bad and he teared up and turned away after a few stilted updates, before he said “I can’t” and walked back down my driveway and disappeared into his yard.
I wanted to go after him, but…Gizmo.
I thought I’d be back in a couple of hours, tops.
I didn’t take any food or water.
It was a difficult drive, because usually Kirk drives and I hold the little clear box we carry him in. But I was alone, I thought it would be easier to do this without having to have Kirk there, I thought I’d do it mid-week so that we’d have the weekend.
But it was a bit of a disaster.
As gently as I drove, Gizmo is so wobbly that he lost his weak footing on the towels and rolled over. And I couldn’t do anything for him because I was in moving traffic. So the poor little guy struggled, like a rolled turtle, to right himself.
It happened twice.
I felt like shit.
I took him in and said I’d wait in the truck, I was fine I said, I had marking to do and had my computer with me.
I thought it would be an hour.
It wasn’t.
It was four.
I am caught up on the marking, so I guess that’s one plus.
I had intended to go for a hike this afternoon, as part of that ‘trying to find a way to have some more regular exercise’ thing.
I picked Kirk up on the way home instead, and, because I was so hungry, dehydrated, and basically emotionally drained, gave up on any hope of a workout of any kind today, and poured a glass of wine instead.
Fail.
And I also feel like crap because my neighbour has gone back out to the Valley, where he is staying, where the love of his life is in the hospital. And I didn’t get home to go see if I could offer any support.
Another fail.
Gizmo is home again, and on more medications, and higher doses of some of the ones he was already on. Things aren’t really improving, but he still seems happy and contented most of the time, so we are still in that holding pattern oscillating between good days and difficult days.
I wish I’d taken more than a week off, but I didn’t feel like I could.
I’m feeling pretty tapped out, not very resilient at all.
“Today was a difficult day” said Pooh……
