No hangover here either. New Orleans miracle.

I've been committed to decluttering in theory ever since I helped clean out my parents' house after my mother died. They were by no means hoarders, and Mom kept a very neat house, but they had that Depression-era childhood thing going on where they didn't like to get rid of anything that might possibly be useful. There were two desk drawers entirely filled with blank greeting cards of various kinds, and while we have a large extended family and my parents had a reasonable number of close friends, no one sends THAT many Get Well/Christmas/Thank-You/etc. cards.

The problem is finding/making time for it. Also, with books, letters, and pictures, there's the fear that someday I really WILL write that book set during Napoleon's invasion of Russia, and then where will I be if I donated that half-shelf of research materials I bought for it years ago? And what if elderly me wants to re-read all those letters from college friends or look at all those pictures from childhood vacations that so far young adult and middle-aged me has been content to leave in boxes in the basement?

Which is silly. I have full access to the internet and an extensive academic library (through work) to research anything I want to write about. And elderly me will still be ME. She won't want to discard her most cherished memories and heirlooms, but she's unlikely to grow a complete new personality and suddenly care more about those boxes in the basement than reading or traveling (assuming she's healthy enough to do so).

It also helps me to imagine some hopefully far-future Annabel having to sort this stuff out, and thinking, "Why did Mom KEEP this?" instead of, "Is there the tiniest possibility that I ever might regret getting rid of it?"

This weekend, I just ordered a Dumpster, and my sister is in town to help us pack. Tomorrow morning, we reward all out hard work by going together to see Furious 7, and then packing and throwing away more shit.

I'm sure there will a pizza and a hot shower involved, and perhaps a run for more boxes and packing tape.

GLAMOROUS LIFE.

Oh, hey, guess what D and I get to do to celebrate our 5th anniversary on April 9?!

MOVE. For the first of two times in 3 weeks. Le sigh. We've never had a honeymoon, were too broke to celebrate our last 2 anniversaries and Valentine's Days, and this anniversary, we get to move. I'd rather do a bare-handed necropsy on a 6-months old zombie.

BUT -- temp house hase a NICE BATHTUB, so I will be taking a long, luxurious bath that night -- my first in 7 years.

We took Minet for euthanasia, which had a traumatic component in that when the techs tried to run an IV for sedation, he struggled so hard he broke the tumor open and bled all over the place. It had grown so big so fast!

However, the techs brought him back in and the vet got the injection into a vein very easily, so at the last it was peaceful and painless for him.

I had my alarm set to watch the eclipse this morning but when I couldn't see anything but gray out the window I just rolled over and went back to sleep.

Oh, Theo. I'm sorry.

Theo, I'm so sorry.

Miracles do happen y'all. I am awake and not hungover. Can't yet speak for The Nicest.

No hangover here either. New Orleans miracle.

I hate you both so, so much right now.

I'm sorry that such a hard thing was made even harder, Theodosia.

Aw, kitty. I'm sorry, Theo.