It's amazing to me how easy it is to forget things, how easy it is to "get back to normal," as it were. Just a little over a week after a murder in our town, things seem pretty "normal." I mean, they're not totally "normal," of course, in fact, I think it would be hard pressed to think that things would ever be normal again, but everyone's back to the blah day to day routine--even myself. Especially my kids, at that age, you know, all that matters is your toys and they were upset about the murders because they had to stay at home at night instead of run around the neighborhood. I should be glad I'm getting back to normal, but instead, I feel strange. Unsettled. Like we were supposed to be dealing with something and we didn't. Which is basically true. On the other hand, life goes on. She will be remembered.
The only thing I WISH was back to normal is my husband's sleep schedule!!!! I can't believe I'm STILL saying this. STILL. Up all night, sleep all day. It's like he's in tune with the sun---backwards. I am on the exact opposite schedule as him, it's too weird. I think it's becoming the time where I can say something to him. He's been home a long, long while now. And he needs to pick up and get a job. I've been holding my tongue on that one, but it's time for that too. Does he deserve some time off, yes. Does he need to take this much time off. No, no, no!
Will keep you posted.
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