I love having my new, own place. Chai bunny has loved exploring & ripping pieces off the maze of cardboard boxes, climbing up my 7 pillow stacks, searching for the previously hidden tootsie roll bag with her massive hound dog nose, & taking her stuffed friends all over to show them their new home. We put up a string of lights as a banner on my bed, adding some whimsy & light to my otherwise kept vampire-like dark I keep for my insane fibro-sensitive eyes. Otherwise I've felt I have had nothing to say, nothing to feel, just nothing. My doctor is good, although his wanting to skip a month in visits & not really planning anything new in the way of treatments is a bit worrying. I guess I feel that like an elderly person going into a home I've gotten to the place in a figurative sense I've come to die. That's ok, but just so final. One of the main reasons we moved is to be closer to family, for my parents know after they are gone I'll need help just existing...though I worry & feel badly for whoever gets saddled with the burden of me as a professional sick person. I hate feeling or thinking like this, but it comes to me when I'm sleeping through stress dreams & is on my mind when I wake up. Hopefully Chai bunny will continue to jump on my bed & wake me up with her fuzzy face & big eyes watching me as I open my eyes.