More than the leaves are turning. One hopes.

I feel as if I am turning some kind of corner.  Oh, I am still sad and procrastinating, I miss Larry intensely all the time, and life still feels as if I have lost my compass, identity and the point of it all.  Perhaps I am a touch less sad, a little more resigned to reality.  Maybe.  I still play solitaire and binge watch shows for hours on end.  But I swept the floor and worked on Rowena's painting, and dug out the stuff to fix up the crappy arm warmers I got in the mail.  Dribs and driba, but a few more each week.

Today I went into the basement to fetch my flashlight, and the container of tiny porcelain animals for a project.  I got the dryer going, took out the big trash, put the trash bags where I could find them easier, moved some stuff around.  I tossed the dozen or so bags of flavored masrshmallows Larry had bought to make his rice crispy treats.  They were end of year stock in 2017 anyway.  Pumpkin spice, gingerbread, vanilla.  I'd gotten rid of the cereal early, it doesn't keep.  I won't make the treats for myself, and if I make fudge, those were too stale.  I use the jar stuff.  I do have a couple jars on hand, and butter in the freezer.  Now that the weather has cooled, I can make fudge.  It is not a summer thing at all. 

The whole point is I was able to toss the marshmallows without feeling overly wasteful or guilty.  A bit, and I feel weepy, but am not actually crying. Maybe.