Jan. 7th, 2019 10:53 am
Self-sufficiency
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muckefuckWhen I spoke to LL Saturday evening, I informed him that I was sitting in the comfy chair wearing my dead husband's robe and eating crackers from the sleeve. "What that tells me is that you're either very relaxed or very depressed." Given that I never left the house all weekend and also didn't do any housework, I think we know which.
Saturday was even Bear Cocktail Night, but I knew that I didn't have it in me to pull the place together in time so I cancelled. A lot of my regulars were out of town anyhow. Only two got in touch to ask if I was planning anything; one said that he'd be willing to take me out (and the other probably would have if I'd asked) but I guess he was waiting for me to reach out since he never followed up.
For a slug weekend, it could've been worse. I cooked my meals and they were decent for the most part. I'd managed to pick up some miso soup and white rice on the way home Friday night and these respectively formed the bases for two meals. A bag of potatoes I'd laid in some time ago became the basis for two others (Brägeli on Saturday and breakfast burritos on Sunday). I shorted myself on green vegetables again, but that's par for my existence anymore.
It's hard to say what exactly's got me in this funk; as usual, it's probably a combination. The stacked-up funerals didn't help. (My sister called on Saturday and my first thought was that my dad had died; she just wanted to check that I was alright.) I also had a dream in the wee hours of Saturday morning that Monshu and I were preparing to leave a vacation apartment and he'd thoughtfully hung up my shirts where I'd be sure to see them and pack them. It left me with a warm fuzzy feeling that melted away the moment I woke up and realised he wasn't there; it was two hours before I could get back to sleep again.
I find myself painfully aware of how much he used to do for me, and not just because now I have to do it all for myself. Through all my frustrations with the colonoscopy and its consequences, I thought to myself "Not only did he go through worse than this, when he dealt with it, he went out of his way not to disturb me." It's so rare to find someone who will treat you with that level of consideration that I'd count myself extremely lucky to find anyone who would do that for me again.
Saturday was even Bear Cocktail Night, but I knew that I didn't have it in me to pull the place together in time so I cancelled. A lot of my regulars were out of town anyhow. Only two got in touch to ask if I was planning anything; one said that he'd be willing to take me out (and the other probably would have if I'd asked) but I guess he was waiting for me to reach out since he never followed up.
For a slug weekend, it could've been worse. I cooked my meals and they were decent for the most part. I'd managed to pick up some miso soup and white rice on the way home Friday night and these respectively formed the bases for two meals. A bag of potatoes I'd laid in some time ago became the basis for two others (Brägeli on Saturday and breakfast burritos on Sunday). I shorted myself on green vegetables again, but that's par for my existence anymore.
It's hard to say what exactly's got me in this funk; as usual, it's probably a combination. The stacked-up funerals didn't help. (My sister called on Saturday and my first thought was that my dad had died; she just wanted to check that I was alright.) I also had a dream in the wee hours of Saturday morning that Monshu and I were preparing to leave a vacation apartment and he'd thoughtfully hung up my shirts where I'd be sure to see them and pack them. It left me with a warm fuzzy feeling that melted away the moment I woke up and realised he wasn't there; it was two hours before I could get back to sleep again.
I find myself painfully aware of how much he used to do for me, and not just because now I have to do it all for myself. Through all my frustrations with the colonoscopy and its consequences, I thought to myself "Not only did he go through worse than this, when he dealt with it, he went out of his way not to disturb me." It's so rare to find someone who will treat you with that level of consideration that I'd count myself extremely lucky to find anyone who would do that for me again.