This house is not a home.

I'm in a transition period right now. Still in my house part of the time, but spending more and more time at his; it will be my home, too, when we can get it together to make room for me and my stuff. That will be weeks of work. Everything and everyone I love in my life now is there. The only piece missing from that puzzle right now is me.

Missing is a good word to describe my general demeanor now. There is a huge void that is evident every time I unlock the door to my house, tiptoe to the bedroom, and find an empty dog bed on the bedroom floor where there was once a snoring German Shepherd. Missing is the routine she and I had gotten into. Hanging out together in that bedroom in the mornings, her rolling and yapping and demanding food, me getting a workout in before the day started. Six days a week, mostly without fail. Missing is my brain for the past month. Distracted, scattered. I have lists. I misplace lists. Tasks are forgotten. I am in such a hurry every day to get out of this empty shell that used to be a home, that I can't remember what it is I wanted to accomplish when I do go. My focus is missing.

At his house, too, I am aimless. Still seems like I am just hanging out at someone else's place on my days off like I always did; like I should be somewhere else, or doing something else. There is always that pull - I need to go home to _________ . But the truth is, I only need to go there to grab a change of clothes occasionally. There is no one to take care of here now. I am trying to create a routine at his house, but it's difficult; I'm not used to accommodating other peoples' schedules and needs. In other words, it's not home yet. It definitely feels more that way than it ever did, and more than my empty, dogless, soulless house does - but it's just not going to happen until I am there 24/7.

I gave myself a good 7 days to be a slug. Now, I am obligating myself again to break a sweat for 6 of 7 days and to be moving in some fashion every day of the week. I haven't been able to run on the treadmill since she's been gone. Not the one in my bedroom, anyway. I just can't/don't spend that much time there. It's painful. I've taken to walking the Little Girlie on the 4-mile out and back loop in the park when at his place, and doing a 3.5 mile walk at a fast clip, on a route I call Hill Of Death when I'm at my place. I've got weights and a workout ball at both houses now, so I can do the Body Fat Solution weights workout every day, no matter where I am.

There's a gym membership in the works so that no matter where I am, I have that as an anchor. It's a start, anyway.