the box

Get a box, any box, and box up his crap.

It has been a very long, very busy day, and on top of the craziness at work I had the every other Friday three hour drive to take the Pea to her dad.  Not only is it long and tiring, but letting her go bums me out...I just got home and ALL I want to do is crawl into bed with a glass of wine.  The LAST thing I want to do is start going around the house looking for HIS stuff and boxing it up.  The few things he has here (random toiletries, a toothbrush, a razor, some clothes) have become part of the background and I don't really see them anymore...actively seeking them out, touching them, smelling them (yeah, I'm one of those people that smells everything) will just make me think about him more, just think about all that we COULD have been, all the times he let me down, etc. etc. and I will just get sad. 

Right now sad is not an option.

Tomorrow, when I have more energy, it will be another story.  Tomorrow, it's all about the box.