Nowhere to be at peace

My boyfriend the hunky scientist has to go back to work for the week, so he left this morning. It's terribly lonely here without him, but he'll be back next weekend for the memorial. I'll be the emcee, so this week is going to be busy. I need to write my mom's obituary tonight--that's something I've been soundly trained in (journalism degree), so I have no qualms about it. I need to find something to wear. We need to pick out flowers, get music together, design and write the program, find and schedule a boat for scattering our parents' ashes, figure out how to have a private reception after the memorial (our house and our budget aren't big enough to invite everyone who attends the memorial over for a gnosh), and so many other things. What I really feel like doing is nothing. I don't want to speak to anyone; I don't want to do anything at all. It's a strange desire, this wanting to be more still than still, to empty my mind and feel nothing, to simply dissolve for a while and rest deep and tranquil, let the world's bustle spin around and without me.