Dad needed extra help so I have spent the last three days working all day with overtime. I am not used to standing up that long and had to take frequent breaks. I was so tired after work every day that I would put on my sleeping wear, grab a magazine, and hit the covers. Even when it was still light outside! I did it though. It makes me feel better about giving vocational rehabilitation a try soon. I can do it (work) with practice.
Tonight, I felt more spirited than most nights. I got in the kitchen and made breakfast for supper with Maggie watching my every move. I was humming loudly as I stirred some scrambled eggs when there was a knock upon my door.
"I can't stay long," mom said upon opening the door. "I just wanted to see how you are doing."
"You're just in time for supper," I replied.
Mom said she wasn't going to eat, but she ended up eating a plate full of eggs, bacon, cheese, and toast.
"Food just tastes better when someone else cooks it," mom told me.
Tonight, I feel a certain sense of contemplative pride over this week so far. It has probably been one of the most normal and mainstream weeks I've experienced since I got a home out of homelessness or quit drinking.