OK, in order to take my mind off of Max (I still have to look over my shoulder when I open the door to make sure that sneaky little guy isn't going to follow me out) I kept myself very busy this weekend.
Saturday: (after the death) I went to Borders and edited like crazy. I am never 100% pleased with my results, but anything I do is an improvement, lol. And bought myself a chocolate-cherry AND a paperback novel by Karin Slaughter. The title escapes me, but it's a fat, juicy, gruesome thriller.
Then I went home and crashed. Bad headache. Wonder why?
Sunday: Woke UP with same headache, but refused to let it stop me. Went back to Borders, edited, edited, edited, and met my family at little sister Mary's for Corey's second birthday party. The cake was made from scratch. Yes, you know--when you throw flour and sugar and stuff into a bowl and mix it up yourself? NOT whip open a box of Duncan Hines? People still do that. Mary is one of them. Of course it was wonderful, and Corey was a joy. "Tante!" Blows me a kiss. "Tante!" Blows me a kiss. It never gets old. Especially not to me
Then Beth and I drove to the east side. For those of you not familiar with Cleveland, this is a city divided down the middle by the Cuyahoga River. West siders rarely venture to the east side unless they have a very good reason...like maybe you work there, like me. Or your obscenely wealthy great-aunt is about to croak, and mumbling something incoherant about changing her will.
We went to the (artsy) Cedar Lee Theater to see La Môme (English Title: La Vie en Rose), the life of Edith Piaf. WONDERFUL! She reminded me, eerily, of Judy Garland--not only her addiction problems, but her hairstyle AND that 1950s no-eyebrow look. In French, with English subtitles. Riveting! The first "good" movie we've seen in months.
To kill time before the show started, we also stopped at Joseph Beth Bookseller, an independent bookstore at Legacy Village in Lyndhurst where I signed their stock, then moved on to the Borders across the street--and then got HOPELESSLY lost when I pulled out onto the wrong road. I never claimed to have much of a sense of direction, but hello? I drove 5 or 6 miles the wrong way before I realized what I was doing.
So yeah, I kept busy. As Brent H. says, it's all cool.