"i wonder what i'm choosing"

Last night, we spent almost the entire night running around the house, cleaning in hopes of making our house look more expensive for the appraiser. Who was a very nice midwestern man that spent about ten minutes here, took some pictures and left. (Frye apparently hides under the covers when she's scared now. It's over the top cute/) Before that, I went to the dentist because I chipped a tooth and broke a filling, and ended up needing three shots of novocaine and leaving with a swollen, aching face and ended up canceling my training session because I couldn't handle the idea of trying to do anything other than sit very still and try not to accidentally bite my cheek.

I called out of work, feeling like ass, (emailed out of work doesn't sound quite right) slept on and off, took a lot of migraine meds, finished my last familial holiday ornament, and watched an entire season of an stupid show on netflix. Light came home, we took Funnyface to the vet and she's down to a heartbreaking five pounds, twelve ounces, so we'll get the results of blood tests tomorrow, and then there will be an ultrasound and maybe even an endoscopy.

We've arrived at a bit of a holiday detente (even better, at Light's parents instigation) where instead of a complete orgy of presents, we pool money and donate it. I've decided part of our money will go to the rescue organization where we got Frye (I want to sponsor a cat in each of our cats names, so Funnyface and Brat and Noisy and Frye and Princess will all be names on some other cat's cage) and some to the greater boston food bank and some to Child's Play. And I still feel a little weird about talking about donations, it feels like it's bragging to even mention the fact we give money away.

Tomorrow it's back to the real world, and I've got all these grand ambitions that don't involve hiding under a blanket and eating ice cream topping out of the jar, that do involve going back to the gym, stopping spending money on silly things, reading more serious books and wasting less time. Tomorrow I'll go to work, and then volunteer, and then a work party, probably in a fancy dress and pointedly unfancy, shoes and then back to work, then the gym, then class, and then breakfast with Mech, and the gym, and then therapy, and then Louise Gluck. In between, I want to write some postcards (possibly with Ani quotes), read another Marilyn McHugh novel, make the chickpea flatbread and honey-roasted vegetables recipe, I want to put a silly hat on Moppet and make holiday cards out of the pictures we take. I want to summon enough calm to cope with pushing a Readercon code of conduct proposal to completion and enough courage to apply for a couple jobs.

We'll see, I guess. It's bedtime now.