My cousin's husband passed away yesterday morning. Very sudden, they think it was an aneurysm.
So sad I can't stand it. We've managed to reach both my sister and my parents, all of whom are heading north as I type. I hate sharing that kind of news over the phone. My parents want to make it back in time for the funeral and Sylvia will be home tomorrow or Wednesday.
It's such a shock. You never know how much time you've got.
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I am in the throes of cleaning up the various 'projects' I've started over the past few months. Why do I start these things and never finish them? I've had stomach problems for at least a month now; I wake up the morning and feel dreadful for at least the first 5 hours I am awake. Then we add in migraine type headaches and hot working conditions in my office and you've got a recipe for a whole pile of nothing getting done.
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I've been working on my lit review. I want to finish the nasty bits first so I haven't worked on the rest of things. I think this is silly now that I think about it. If I got the other bits written up I'd probably feel better about the whole stupid thing and then I'd have some real momentum.
Rather the way if I washed the kitchen floor I'd probably get a whole lot more cleaned because at least that would be done. I just feel so crappy most of the time I can't be bothered.
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I got a new keyboard for the home computer, and it is a beauty. Keys so gentle and soft you could have a wee nap on them between tasks.