So I walked the dogs, and grew ever-annoyed with Florida's pathetic excuse for winter weather, returning home carrying the fleece I'd left wearing. I fed the beasts and started my Monday tidying/cleaning routine. I was dusting the living room when I saw it -- the nondescript little metal box that resides behind the television. It's Bronte's box: it holds her cremains, and it lives behind the TV because that was her favorite place to curl up while at the same time the ONLY place she wasn't allowed to curl up. (Except toward the end, when Bronte was allowed to do whatever Bronte pleased.)
I... promptly burst into tears. I've cried a few times today, and I suspect there will be flare-ups throughout the month.
There's also vague work-related angst, as it would appear that George won't be getting a year-end bonus, since Boss has said nothing either way about bonuses -- despite the fact that Boss told George if they landed Big Name Client (which they did), he could expect to see a nice bonus at the end of the year. Sigh.
So right now I feel a little empty and sore and cynical inside, and it... really kind of sucks.
Tell me something happy.