It’s the first full day without her.
The four day move out marathon ended yesterday.
I’ve been busy since then cleaning up after her… and wiping her very existence off anything in the house.  (I might be pissy.  Sorry.  Not sorry.)

My new vacuum cleaner has more minutes on it than most people’s model from many years ago.
It works good.
I would vacuum the back yard if I didn’t think the neighbors would report me to the looney police.

Places where furniture once was are now fresh spots for whatever is to be.
Closets are empty.
Cabinets are bare, wiped down, and their doors given a fresh coat of whatever that shit is you spray on cabinet doors to make the wood happy again.
(I’m a boy.  I Pledge to not really know about proper dusting procedures for cabinet doors.)
Whatever.  I googled it.  Hard, it is not.
Or is it?

The day was a bit whirlwindish.  
I went to the grocery store for lunch.
The deli.
I got a fresh sandwich and some strawberry cheesecake.  
And decided to replenish my cleaning supplies… because all the shit it’s gonna take to have just a basic amount of shit in the house to feed people is gonna take several loads.
She left me with few to any cleaners.  Mostly just the bottles with maybe two half-effort little handed squirts left in them.  You couldn’t much clean up a fly’s shit stain with that… so I bought more.
The first time I grabbed a bottle from under the sink to clean up some mess, I grumbled at the total lack of fairness in her severance to me.  The second time, I remembered who I thought she was and got a bit miffed at myself. 
I knew she was selfish.  Now, she was just being true to form and taking everything she could. 
Relationships are not made by taking, but I digress. 
(Note: Life lesson included free of charge in the previous sentence.)

I received six dryer sheets from the likely damn near full box that was previously on the shelf in the Laundry Room.
Approximately the same amount of dish washer pods remained for me neatly tucked in a Ziplock snack bag under the sink.  
As for the rest of the snack bags, none remained from their respective box.  Even the box had vanished.
And zippo Ziploc sandwich bags made the cut.
I guess I can cut my sandwiches in half and stick one in the dish washer pod bag later.
I’m curios to see how many millimeters of aluminum foil I was granted in her departure from my life.

Anyhow, back at the grocery store, I worked my way down the kitchen utensils aisle.
Honestly, it was a struggle.
Those items were her domain.
I’m power tools and socket sets.  She’s mixing spoons, cutting boards, can openers, measuring cups, and everything else you can OCD organize into a nicely appointed kitchen full of drawers and cabinets.
Truthfully, I shed a tear or two.

I soldiered on as much as I could muster.
…to the beer and wine aisle.

Back at the house, Wine Bottle #1 helped me sweep and mop the floors, clean the pool, and make a modest dinner for the puppy and myself.  
The puppy will be five months old next Monday.  He’s wondering what in the unholy fuck is going on.  His work-from-home daily companion is gone.  His ten year old play buddy has left the neighborhood.  And I’m cleaning like my ticket to heaven depends on how dust-free the empty Living Room is.  

Yep, so far, so good.
Tomorrow is a new day.