One Day at a Time

Today was one of those hands-on, nonstop days where time seems to fly by. I tackled a major project in the elevator motor room—repairing a large section of drywall that had molded over time. It was extensive work; I had to run to Lowe’s for materials, cut the drywall to size, clean up the area, apply spackling, and make sure everything was primed for the next steps. Handling a project of that scale in a single day felt like a big win. And to be honest, the work itself wasn’t bad at all—just the sort that keeps you so occupied that hours slip away unnoticed.

Tomorrow, I’ll need to restock supplies, this time using my new company charge card. It’s a bit surreal to think about; here I am, fully responsible for a significant position and trusted to manage projects, materials, and expenses. Sometimes it hits me just how far I’ve come, and I can’t help but feel like I’m finally stepping into a new phase—one where I’m a “real” adult, shaping things and moving forward with real accountability.

Something else struck me today too. I realized that I hadn’t thought much about Katarina or felt that familiar pang of missing her. There’s a sense of finality now, an understanding of who she is and the lifestyle she’s chosen, and it’s helped me let go in a way I didn’t think was possible. For the longest time, I couldn’t fully accept the person she’d become; it just didn’t make sense to me. But today, I felt a strange calm in knowing that her choices don’t need to affect me anymore.

Reflecting on it, I’m glad I no longer have to be around that version of her. The woman she turned into is someone I’d never choose to associate with. It’s hard to believe, but she changed in ways that just don’t align with who I am or what I value. She treated me poorly, consistently making me feel small or unworthy, and as painful as it was, this distance has shown me the truth of who she wants to be. And that person? It’s not someone I want in my life.

I understand that this is her choice, her path, and maybe she’s even happy with it. But for me, I’ve made peace with not being a part of it. There’s sadness, of course, and sometimes I wonder if this was always part of who she was, hidden beneath layers I never saw. Maybe it was there all along; maybe it grew over time. Who knows? But one thing I’m sure of: each day, it’s a little easier to move on, and I’m grateful for that.

And just like that, another day comes to a close.

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