After retrieving all spare keys from non-residents, and professional maids bleached, deep-cleaned and vacuumed all surfaces reachable, the house is starting to feel a little less violated and I’m feeling more like myself. Except for the fact that I either don’t sleep, or sleep immediately upon my return home from work and skip dinner. Mr. W remarked this morning that he likes my early bedtimes as it ensures early mornings wherein I watch the news with him. I’m still not quite loving the news.

Yesterday evening Dodo came downstairs for water, then beelined to the stepdaughter (even though we were all there), meowing at her. She started petting him and he stuck to her side. This is new. Even more new: as he ascended the stairs, she walked up to the landing from downstairs and cooed his name. He went right to her on the other side of the stairway railing and she petted him as he flopped back and forth on the landing floor trustingly, enjoying her affection. You can really tell she’d put in her time with him while we were gone. The two have well-bonded, because Dodo is not normally a love-everybody cat. Not that he dislikes people, but he’s just usually cautious.

The early mornings have another advantage. I’ve been put on a pill regimen, and some of these require to be taken in conjunction with food, so I have to eat breakfast. I had no idea that prenatal vitamins are horsepill-sized, or that they are prescription. The antibiotics (azythromycin 500mg; double the dose of a z-pack) I was put on as a precaution is probably a good thing, given that I’d been traveling in 3 different countries that rained consistently, was confined to a cruiseship and planes with international diseases onboard, and have not been sleeping well or been in the best spirits. It’s a wonder I didn’t catch some exotic ailment already. I’ve also been banned from any intake of caffeine (this includes chocolate! and tea!), alcohol (great for my gutline, since moderate drinking has become a regular thing in the past month or so and I’d been meaning to cut it out), and tobacco (good thing I’m back from Europe; just being there probably gave me the equivalent of a cig or two a day from second-hand smoke alone, despite all my efforts to avoid it). Mr. W has to avoid alcohol for the next month, too. I had my concerns about that, since his stress level hasn’t been low either and he would normally turn to whiskey or add a little something to his coffee for a picker-upper. I think he’s been straight, though. It’s only fair; if I have to do everything I can and be as clean as possible to make sure this ridiculously expensive procedure doesn’t go awry, he could at least do his part. It’s not like they told HIM to cut caffeine, which would be close to torture for him. I find it interesting that I wasn’t told to avoid raw meats or fish. Does this mean that the cliche sushi-ban is based on nothing more than old wives’ tales?