Looking for normal

My sister is of the opinion that when I'm not blogging, I'm having a blast. Well, that is sometimes true, but not this time. I've finally decided to feel sorry for myself--now that Lee is gone, now that all the cancer treatment is over, now I'm in a serious funk. I want to dig a hole, crawl in, and pull the covers over me. My therapist said I could do that, but when I came up for air, the same life would be there, needing attention. So I'm trying not to set the world's record for a pity party, since it will get me exactly nowhere.
I dragged myself to Curves Monday, Wednesday, and today, and plan to keep that schedule. Tuesday I went for a walk downtown. Thursday, I went into the office to clean out my desk. That was hard. Quick, but hard. I never really had much personal stuff there. Not like the phone company when I think it took three strong men and a boy to tote all my stuff to the car. I guess that's the difference between 32 and 6 years. I was going to go for a walk on Thursday, but it rained, so I was saved. I'm not complaining about the rain--we really need it. I just don't think I could handle another season of the media whining about a drought. I don't think we had droughts when I was a little girl and life was grand. It is refreshing to hear the earth make happy gulping sounds as it sucks up the treasures pouring down from heaven. The last really big storm we had was just after I went into the hospital for the first time this year.
So there you are. I'm depressed, but trying to jump start myself out of it. I'm putting some structure back in my life and starting to look for work. I don't really know what I'm doing there, because I've only had two jobs in my life, but I guess I'll figure that out.
My health is good, just in case you were wondering. I'm starting to get regular exercise, I'm still getting plenty of sleep. I'm sick to death of the election, but then I suppose we all are--hasn't this campaign gone on since shortly after Noah got off the ark? I can still laugh at things, so I guess life isn't all bad. It is pomegranate season, even if they are 4.99 a piece at my market--but they are SO good...
Anybody know of a part time job for a cancer survivor, let me know. In the meantime, I'm still breathing and on the right side of the grass. Life is almost perfect.
xxooxx