PS. I am not going to be miserable for much longer

There’s far too much to do.

This Friday, the 3rd of August, (that’s the day after tomorrow folks!), we should settle on the house, and possibly even get the keys. I’m thinking a bottle of sparkling apple juice, a few of Granville’s best felafel rolls, a few candles, and my sweetie – the perfect picnic for our first hours in our new home.

On Saturday, my wonderful sister in law Sarah is coming over to help pack. My brother, our friend Richard, and Mark are going to the new house to build bedroom furniture, install computers, stereo and TV, and build a house of the chickens in the backyard. Hopefully, we can also move the bunnies and the crazy bird so that they can avoid the stress of being here while we’re packing up. Now with added Andrew!

Sunday, more of the same. With added Mandy!

Monday, the professional packer comes in to finish what hasn’t been already done.

Tuesday, the movers come.

Wednesday, Optus connects the phone and internet at Abbott St, and the cleaners come in to do the final clean up in Denistone.

Friday at 10am, we have to hand in the keys for the old house.

Between now and then, I also need to find a garden person to do a huge blitz on the yard, and find carpet cleaners.

I also need to decide which plants are coming with us from Denistone to Merrylands, put them in post if they are in the ground.

There are probably a number of other things I have forgotten about, but that is enough of a list for me to be a wee bit freaked out.

If you’ve previously offered to help out – and I haven’t been in touch, let me know now πŸ™‚ Once all the packing is done, there will be unpacking and furniture building to do (and decorating the nursery – no-one wants to miss out on that!), then organising the housewarming πŸ™‚

Phew….

I couldn’t really put it any better

Post about the latest update in the Haneef case by “Reasons You Will Hate Me“.

And in Lara news..

I’m going to have a whinge. Just because I’m feeling a bit down. I will get over it, but putting it out there seems to help a little – at least it helps me put things in perspective.

Today is Shane’s birthday. After being one of my best friends for over a decade, she stopped talking to me just after Mark and I got married. No explanation, and I don’t know why – she just stopped taking my calls, stopped returning my emails. Nothing.

Shane is the parent I most admire – I saw her go from surprise unwanted pregnancy to brilliant single mother of one, then two children. She parented in a totally natural, spontaneous, consistent and inspired way – and I never thought I’d have a child without her in my life.

For the last year or so, after I realised that she really had cut me off, I’ve been torturing myself, wracking my brains trying to think of what I had done to cause the rift, and what I could do to heal it. And ultimately, every thing I have come up with has lead me to think – why should I have to out myself through this for someone who would treat me like this.

For all my faults, laziness, selfishness, obtuseness, I know that I would NEVER treat a friend the way that Shane has treated me, and I have to ask why I would want someone who would act like that in my life.

And I don’t have a good answer, I just feel the loss of this friendship more keenly than I could have imagined, and even after three years, it still hurts just as bad. And having Ampersand has just thrown the loss of Shane into sharp relief.

This last week has brought a lot of physical changes. A few weeks ago, I still wasn’t really looking pregnant, and now there is no hiding it. My waist has completely disappeared, and my centre of gravity has shifted forward. I’m also suffering from sciatica (thanks for giving me a name for it Sandra!), which has made it difficult for me to walk more than a few steps without my leg collapsing out from under me.

The nausea has been a constant friend, but I haven’t thrown up for a few weeks, which makes it a bit easier to cope with the other physical changes. But the physical changes have made me feel a bit wussy, which leaves me a a little more exposed to the emotional stuff.

One thing that really helps with depression is physical activity – and since my massive paperwork day on monday, I haven’t had any important stuff to do yesterday and today, leaving me with the temptation to stay in bed and feel sorry for myself.

Tomorrow I have to pick up the Survey from Baulkham Hills and take it to the credit union, and this afternoon I have to get the cheque directions from the vendors solicitor. But apart from that, I am free to wallow.

I sent Shane a text message. I got a phone call back – it’s no longer her number.

So I’m going out to hang with a friend that does love me.