For three days I acted like the house was my personal garage. The floor was covered with sawdust, nails, sandpaper scraps and wood ends and tons of ceramic pieces. It was not safe to walk about. I didn't do my dishes either.
I cleaned this morning with the assumption that reconnecting with the house would ground me. But I still feel seriously disoriented, potentially under the weather, and wondering what the hell I'm doing next.
I wish Luke were here.