And so, I moped around last night and for the first half of today. Cried plenty. Felt trapped. Complained to anyone who would listen. And then, during Wee Girlie's nap, I vented to my poor mother and then read Christy while listening to jazz. And then the lady from our reception venue phoned (they're also catering) and we arranged everything for the reception, which takes a lot off my mind.
And then Wee Girlie woke up, and we had fun! I made her a snack, and then informed her that, after she finished her snack, we were going to ride in "Auntie's Big Car" (that's what she -- ironically, considering my tiny hatchback -- calls my car) and get Mommy! That was a big deal. After I told her that she had to pick up her toys before we could go, she proceeded to clean both the living room and her bedroom, quite frantically. We even had to close the lid on the Rubbermaid tub that holds her books. We had fun.
And so, I'm more sane now. Even if I haven't heard back from Dr. B by Monday, I have that day off and I'm going to go over my thesis and do a bunch of revisions myself, in anticipation of his comments. Other than that, it's out of my hands, and I guess this is my big chance to live on faith. That's all I can do. This is my last full week of babysitting; next week is three days, as is the next, and then four days the next week (combination of both her grandmas' EDOs, long weekends, and a trip I'm taking to visit Chris). So, that'll help.
So, this is just to reassure you all that I'm not crazy anymore. It feels good to be back.