I don't know how she does it.

.
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Nor do I know where anything is. Of course, I don't really care where anything is.

My mother has the kitchen clean and arranged, most laundry is done, the living room is up to specs, and she isn't even well yet. Don't look at me like that, I really do try. I can and do offer muscle, but most of it is just doing, and doing, and doing. On the good side, this visit will be easier than last. In spite of my illness and setbacks, I am doing better this year than last. And it shows in how fast, after a little surface rust was dealt with, that the place is coming together. And I think I am in better shape to keep it up.

Tomorrow I will be picking my friend up for shooting. My mother, as I guessed, will not be going this time. I suspect she will go once, maybe twice, to get out. But she will not go often or even usually. At least it is cooler for her this time. It is just about perfect sleep weather without need for heat quite yet either. Oh, and Sassy is finally, slowly, coming around. My mom feeds her and that is the trick with the kitten. Food means love to her and rarely is she not hungry. A few pettings while feeding, a few itchy scratchies, and patience, which my mom has. She has started to creep closer, looking my mother over, an inch closer at a time. It's fun to watch. Sassy will get tired of sprinting around the house, hunched down, eventually.

I don't even know how I am feeling. When someone is added to the equation, my own system isn't sure how to deal with it. Until I can normalize, I am running on adrenaline. That is just the way things go for me too. Not that I fear my mother, just that I fear change. It isn't a mental thing, so much as animal instinct that has been built into me, like the calluses on my feet. Only I have no real means of altering that. PTSD therapy, though technically not a diagnosis mind you, did help. But it can only help so much. Much like almost any scar mitigation techniques, there is only so much that can be done. At least it doesn't make me dangerous, just more cautious, sometimes slightly more excitable.

Oh, an odd thing is happening with my CPAP. I am breathing so much faster than what it can handle that I am blowing the gasket on the seal around my face. I cause it to leak. Shaving hasn't helped, changing the face mask around doesn't seem to work. Simply the volume of my breathing brakes the seal, then that flapping seal tickles my face (much as kitty whiskers), and I keep waking up. Until I can talk to someone about this, I am choosing to not use the device. Outbreathing the capacity of a CPAP? No, I probably don't have sleep apnea. Especially since the machine was off for two hours due to an electrical failure and I slept right through it with the mask on. No headache, so I am pretty sure I didn't miss oxygen either. Crazy.

Well, good night.