Tuesday, September 12, 2017

The Exorcism







It has been over a year since Sir Steve's ex moved out -- a YEAR!  And as you know (if you read here semi regularly) I started boxing up some of her stuff.  

But over the weekend I told Sir Steve I couldn't do it anymore..... If he wanted me living with him then he had to (at least) help me clean out her crap.... after all I don't know what is her's and what is his!!  I thought I did but screwed up when I packed the coffee mugs..... thinking all the cat ones were her's..... WRONG!

So yesterday morning Sir Steve wasn't working so he rolled up his sleeves and cleaned out a cupboard in the bedroom for my clothes -- moved to the bathroom and cleaned out the cupboard in there of expired meds, her towels, her bubble bath and soaps etc.  Then he moved into the spare bedroom and worked in there.  The latest count is 9 boxes of her shit.

I have 2 speeds - like my father - fast and fastest.  I left Sir Steve cleaning and purging and ran off to the grocery store to pick up staples.  On my way I decided to stop by my apartment and pick up my winter clothes.  I was on fastest speed..... I was preoccupied and distracted.... I wasn't focused.  There is a small step from the city sidewalk to the pathway to my lil home.  I was at my car loading up the winter clothes and turned to go back for something I had forgotten (I don't even remember what it was I had forgotten) The next thing I knew I saw the cement sidewalk coming up to greet me.  I had caught my toe on the lil step and went splat on my face! 

The one OW that broke through the fog was my left wrist....... I stood up gingerly - checking to make sure everything was still working -- looked down at my wrist - my precious fitbit took the brunt of the fall .................... 



And I cried.  My precious fitbit!! My knee was scraped and bleeding.  My wrist felt like it should have had bones sticking out (it didn't -- and as it turns out is only bruised) my right hand was scraped and bleeding.  I climbed into my car and drove home to Sir Steve.  I sounded like a 4 year old when he came to me at the back door.

"I fell"  (cue tears)

He got me into the bathroom and did a check from head to toe..... he cleaned up and bandaged my hand and knee.   AND he tried lecturing me (talking quietly?!) to me about slowing down.

Then  I got my act together and limped off to the grocery store and picked up the staples and came home.  

By last night my body felt like it had been hit by a truck.  BUT nothing is broken except for my fitbit -- and a replacement has already been ordered.

Today more cleaning and purging ....... and soon - much sooner than I expected - this home will be ready for me to feel at home -- no more living in some woman's shadow.  Just living under the protective arm of my Sir Steve.... and that is a very good thing!

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