So, it’s meant to be tomorrow, sometime early afternoon.
I feel no happiness, no relief, no satisfaction. In fact, I feel nothing, except being so tired with these three awful weeks that it may take many months to recover. Their easy decisions, my time, which I do have a lot, yet which still is precious,
Fine, I hopefully shall see The Cat, meow a few minutes together, do some skull-to-skull hugging, then go to sleep without anyone telling me if it is a good or wrong time to do so.
I hereby claim my life back.