September 1, 2026

Today was another one of those days where I mostly just existed.

I did something to my hand last night. I’m pretty sure I injured a tendon, which unfortunately is something I’m prone to doing, and it kept me awake for most of the night because the pain was awful. I spent a good chunk of today hurting too, although thankfully it seems to have settled down a little bit.

I’m not feeling great, but I’m feeling considerably better than I did last night, and at this point I’ll take the win.

I rested for most of the day, which was probably what I needed anyway. It was nearly 100 degrees outside, so I wasn’t exactly itching to go anywhere. I stayed inside with the air conditioning and lounged around for most of the day.

Honestly, sometimes lounging around in the AC is the only reasonable response to weather that fucking hot.

And apparently Mother Nature didn’t get the memo that it’s September.

Could we maybe stop with the heat waves now?

Thanks.

Streaming Can Wait

I also pushed my Whatnot shows to next week.

I’m still not ready.

I keep thinking that I should be ready. My shop is important to me. Streaming is an important part of my business. I know I need to get back to it eventually.

But my heart isn’t in it yet.

I don’t have the emotional capacity to turn on a camera, put on my goofy personality and pretend I’m in a place where I can entertain people for a couple of hours.

I’m not.

Not yet.

And I’m trying to get better about recognizing that I don’t have to force something just because I think I should be doing it.

Maybe next week will be different.

Maybe it won’t.

We’ll see.

Finally, Some Shelves

I waited until the sun went down tonight and decided to hang some shelves.

My handy guy wasn’t able to make it again, and I really want to get my office finished enough that I can actually start organizing it properly, so I figured I’d just do it myself.

I got the big shelf up and three of the smaller shelves.

Progress!

I’m also now sweating like I just ran a fucking marathon.

It’s still incredibly humid outside, and apparently doing physical labor in the house makes you sweat even when the air conditioning is running.

Who knew?

Still, I’m glad I did it.

Every time I get another shelf on that wall, I can see the office coming together a little more.

It’s still not finished.

There are still things everywhere.

There are still collectibles waiting for homes, things that need to be moved around and a whole lot of organizing left to do.

But I’m getting there.

And that’s what matters.

A little each day.

That seems to be the only way I can do any of this right now.

One Month

Today also marks one month since Mom’s funeral.

One month.

I genuinely don’t understand how that is possible.

It still feels like it just happened.

July 20 doesn’t feel like some distant date on a calendar. It feels like yesterday. It feels like last night. It feels like I’m still waiting for someone to tell me that this was all some horrible misunderstanding and she’s coming home.

But she isn’t.

On September 20, it will be two months since she died.

Two months.

I can’t even fathom saying that.

I’ve spent the past month doing paperwork, handling estate affairs, cleaning my house, working on my business, sorting beads, trying to rebuild my office, taking care of Beaker and attempting to figure out who the hell I am now that I’m no longer someone’s full-time caregiver.

I’ve done a lot.

I’ve also spent a lot of time in bed.

I’ve cried.

I’ve laughed.

I’ve gotten angry.

I’ve been productive.

I’ve been completely useless.

I’ve had days where I felt like I was finally getting somewhere, followed by days where getting out of bed felt like an unreasonable request.

And apparently that’s grief.

It’s messy.

It’s unpredictable.

It doesn’t give a shit about my plans.

Tomorrow Beaker goes to the vet for his monthly manicure, and then I have therapy.

I’m actually looking forward to therapy.

I need it.

It’s been a lot.

And maybe tomorrow will be another day where I manage to do a little more.

Maybe I’ll come home from therapy and crash.

Maybe I’ll work on the office.

Maybe I’ll do absolutely nothing.

I don’t know.

I’m learning not to plan every minute of my life anymore because apparently life has its own fucking plans.

For tonight, I’m going to rest this hand, cool down from hanging shelves and try to get some sleep.

It’s September.

It’s been one month since I said goodbye to my mom.

And somehow, despite everything, I’m still here.

I don’t really know what to do with that yet.

But I’m here.

I guess that’s enough for tonight.