Urgh

The weekend kicked my butt more than I thought it would.
Yesterday, TYG was in better shape than we expected, but once again I succumbed to the lure of unpacking. It was productive, though: Fiction out through the early “D’s” nonfiction rearranged, DVD movies set up alphabetically. Swept the kitchen. Cleaned the counters. Helped move stuff (as noted before, she can’t lift more than 1 lb). Went shopping.
Today, I’d planned not to do very much, but now the surgery seemed to catch up with TYG. She felt poor enough we spent most of this afternoon waiting around the E/R to see if there was a problem (probably not, I’m happy to say). Then dropping off an inter-library loan, then some quick shopping. So once again, wiped.
Proving once again that even when I think I’m prepared for crossing these rapids in the river of life, life is liable to surprise me. There’s always another axe-man.
PS: None of the above is meant as criticism of TYG. It’s not her fault she feels miserable and it’s 100 percent my responsibility to help her when she is. Doesn’t make it any less exhausting, but please don’t think I resent it. In sickness and in health …