Day thirty-four of furlough. The day began with the usual, coffee, a Starbucks Venti White Chocolate Mocha, hot enough to burn through the fog of sleep and hesitation alike. The house feels different this morning. Not empty yet, but close. She’s traveling for business today, and I can already feel the quiet pressing in at the edges. I hate this part, the waiting. The calm before the silence.
While she packs, I’ve been bouncing between errands and small distractions, anything to stay busy. Remi’s been pacing the hallway like she’s trying to solve the mystery of the suitcase. Mittens has occupied my chair again, because apparently emotional support involves immobilizing the human. Tabby’s disappeared into the laundry pile like she’s staging a sit-in against separation itself.
I’ve got plans to keep my brain moving once she’s on the road, updates to the D&D overlays, tweaks for the December FB Music launch, maybe even a little audio polish if the mood hits right. Busy hands make for a quieter head. That’s the goal, anyway.
There’s a strange tension in the air before she leaves, like time slows just enough to make every sound heavier. The clink of a coffee mug. The zip of a suitcase. The pause before a door closes. All of it sits louder than it should.
Morale check: steady for now, fragile later. The Living Room Republic prepares for standby operations, one mocha, one project, and one long night at a time.