strange weekend

For those of you who don't know, my weekend is Thursday and Friday. I work nights in a mental hospital, so my weekends are less than traditional. Thursday, Bry and I ripped up some carpet - backstory: In July, Bry accidentally left the bags of litter on the floor overnight. The cats ripped them open and decided they needed a new litter box. I've desperately tried to eliminate the odor by cleaning and cleaning and cleaning the carpets, to no avail. Last month we went to Lowe's and were pricing new flooring. The guy there suggested that until we were ready to re-floor the area that we wanted to, we should pull the carpet up in that area, re-pad it, and paint the floorboards with Killz. We did that. It didn't work. Anyone that knows me, or has been to my house, will tell you that even though I have 8 cats, you'd never know it from the smell. I absolutely HATE animal smell. My house is pristine and always smells nice. Until now. It's been driving me crazy. So, Thursday, we pulled up that section of carpet, cut it out, bleached the floor, Killzed it again, and left it bare. It doesn't look bad, and the cat's haven't peed there since. Better yet, the smell is gone! I'm a happy girl.
After we finished tearing our living room apart, we went on a much needed motorcycle ride. It was about sixty degrees here (in February!) and a beautiful day to ride. I always get nervous on my first ride after not riding for a while, but Thursday was absolutely beautiful. We didn't go on a long ride, but we meandered through the farmland and trees by our house. It reminded me of why I love living out here so much. I hate the city, but where we live, it's absolutely wonderful. It's quiet, laid back, and you can see the stars at night.
The rest of the day was spent tackling my nemesis- the taxes. By the time I went to bed I was annoyed, stressed out, and had a massive headache. I don't understand taxes. I've always considered myself a fairly intelligent person, but for some reason, I just don't get taxes. They don't make any logical sense to me and I can't grasp their rules and regulations. Add to it that I started writing this year and have business expenses and profits and I'm completely lost. I still try though...
Friday morning I woke up to a nightmare, and the start of an asthma attack. I was dreaming that I was murdered and my spirit was helping my sister find my killer. She didn't know I was dead, she thought it was only our parents that were killed, but in actuality our mother was helping the killer kill our father. She too didn't know I was dead. It was very disturbing to dream about one's death. I woke distressed, sad, and not feeling well physically or spiritually. My dreams are graphic, intense, and very real. There are days when I have to ask people around me if certain situations happened.
Like an idiot, I decided to finish the taxes. Not a smart thing to do when I was already weary of soul. I e-mailed my mom after, asking her to do them for me because I totally screwed them up. I couldn't get out of my funk all day. I was stuck in a downward spiral of depression that I didn't want to go to. I couldn't let go of the strange feelings the dream left me with, or the frustrations of my horrible week at work and the combined stress of the stupid taxes. Friday was not a good day. Thankfully Bry was gone all day with school, and was able to avoid me in my funk. I went to bed early, hoping to wake the next day with a better attitude.
Saturday was "Inspirational Movie Day" in our house. I woke at the butt crack of dawn and watched Julie  & Julia, and Eat, Pray, Love before Bry woke up and hung out with me for the rest of the early afternoon. I took a nap and went to work last night. I feel so much better now. Things that seemed bleak have returned to having the glow of hope.