|Laston, my dad, and me in April 2016|
There was no drama (Leanna's mom and I agreed today that we were both concerned there might be) and lots of lovely conversation about everything from birth to death.
We had serious amounts of food and non-alcoholic drinks (the gentleman who planned to raise a glass of SoCo and sweet tea couldn't make it due to health issues). People brought gift baskets (lots of fresh produce from people's gardens) and flowers (ditto) and wrote lovely little memories about Laston on these scroll-looking papers I put out (we're going to compile those along with the ones my friend +Tim Bruhn (Yang) found on FB and G+, and the GQotD/GSotD ones from +Charlie Hoover, and make a book). My dad made a slide show, which I YouTubed.
It was kind of beautiful watching my dad and some friends try to get all that working from dad's MacBook to my older flat-screen TV. The HDMI was easy enough but there was some format tweaking required. Laston would've loved it.
Miss Leanna got to have her father's computer and desk and chair, and the full-time denizens of Chez Kirkland have rearranged and are in the process of organizing the space that was Laston's office and is now becoming the kids' homework/arts & crafts room. It's about half done and I discovered the most amazing thing: with the laptop over here I can print again!
So Abby now has access to printable monologues for her auditions again, and I can print all my own forms for school and work and whatnot.
My mother will be relieved.
Now, my issue is this: apparently all the anxiety and stress and depression of the past three weeks came crashing down today, when tomorrow is my first scheduled day back at work. I'm also still stupid frustrated with little things: a bug bit nearly undid me, and I'm about ready to throw my newly printing laptop through the window if it doesn't let me back into my OneDrive account.
This is a problem, because Google only knows what will make me lose it at any given time right now; I fear for a whiny customer with slow data.
For three weeks I slept like crap every night. Last night I slept for twelve hours, got up, ran some errands, and went back to bed for an hour before starting work on the room. Now, I have a call into the HR people and my direct manager (poor lady; she was my manager for all of a week when this all went down) to see if I can get a work accommodation (like FMLA for me and the girls, or the Washington State equivalent) so I can take a few hours off here and there without penalty to my attendance record.
I'm sure I can; they've been nothing but kind and understanding through the whole mess. But it's more damn paperwork and possibly a doctor visit or two to show that I (or Lizzy or Abby) need it.