“Eagles may soar, but weasles don’t get sucked into jet engines.” Hands down, my all time favorite joke.
I completely lost the month of February. The flu was brutal; and then when I thought it was finally all over, I came down with post-infection bronchitis. I didn’t have the energy to do anything. I just stayed in bed, and slept through things on Netflix and Hulu.
I’m a week out now from the bronchitis diagnosis. I’m still not at 100%, but I’m starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, the worst is over.
March begins in a few hours, and I’m tentatively looking forward to it. There are changes headed towards me. I hope the changes are going to improve the boy and I’s life. Guess we won’t know until we’re actually into it. But at least I should have plenty to write about.
And now, I’m going to try to sleep, because tomorrow is my early shift, and I’ve found I’m more successful at my job when I’m not completely sleep deprived.
Today, I boxed up the boy’s old dishes, and supply of plastic glassware, and unpacked my dishes & non-plastic glassware and put it away on the shelf. I’m in the middle of making my second loaf of bread, with my super awesome new bread machine. I cleaned the master bathroom. I emptied the trash out of my car (it was such a mess, it went well beyond embarrassing). I accomplished much, and yet I’m sitting here feeling like I accomplished nothing.
If I were Suzy Q. Homemaker, I’d have everything clean, the basement would be completely organized, the laundry would be going, the thank you notes would be written and delivered, and all of my belongings would be unpacked and put away and no longer living in boxes making the guest room look like a disaster area storage unit. (And I wouldn’t be writing long run-on sentences. Also, I wouldn’t be using terrible grammar because I’m too lazy to go back and fix obvious mistakes.)
As of today, we’ve been married for three weeks, and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s hard to explain. It’s been a crazy amount of change in a very short amount of time. Before three weeks ago, I’d never kissed a guy, let alone lived with one. Before three weeks ago, the most responsible thing I had to do everyday was just make sure I got myself to work. The boy has been amazing. He’s incredibly patient with me, and that’s truly what’s getting me through this.
I had lunch with my dad yesterday, and I was telling him about how frustrated I am with myself. Basically, I want to be SuperWife, and falling short of mark makes this perfectionist want to cry. I told him that I wish I had taken more than a week and a half off from work. I had no idea how overwhelming and stressful this all would be. He was really sweet and kind, and asked me, “How do you eat an elephant?” Now, the correct answer is, “One bite at a time,” but lately I’ve been approaching things, “The whole thing in one bite!”
So, I’m going to do my best to hang up the cape. Let some other poor woman try to be SuperWife. I think right now the best thing I can do for the boy and myself is just be Wife.