Listening to
Tommy Tutone and putting up laundry while the husband finishes up dinner. I think I could get used to this domestic thing. I'm still terrible at
washing dishes by hand, and have this creeping feeling that they don't really get clean that way. But it's good in a pinch. I am clumsy, and splash soapy water everywhere and forget that the water is running and almost overflow the sink. But I am trying and learning, and I am actually enjoying feeling more capable. ...I'll run them through the dishwasher later. It can't hurt to wash them twice. Unless I'm inadvertently breeding super-bugs that way! Oh well. (BTW, when I got mono at age 9, my best friend's mom told my Mom that it was because she kept her house too clean).
Yesterday, while we were chilling in bed with our respective laptops and a kitty at our feet, T asked if it was bad that he kind of wanted it to just be "me and you and kitty for a while". I told him no, and inside I was happy that he is so pleased and content with our married life. But it does bring up the question of kids. Having kids or not isn't the question. That's one thing I know without a doubt. I would be very sad if I left this world without having raised a child of my own. Whether or not it's mine biologically is more up for debate. It would be fascinating to see a mix of our attributes and interests and there is some sense of wanting to pass on my/our
DNA, I suppose. But there are also children who need families and if need be, I would be open to that. I don't know if T would though, and it's really something that both people need to be on board for. (Ending sentences with prepositions is my bad grammar guilty pleasure, deal with it).
I DIGRESS.
Or do I?
Anyway, the question is really...when?
Then again, my cat just ate a
paint chip, so maybe I'll revisit this topic later.
I'm working on clearing out the kitchen, which I'm sure you all find fascinating. I'm still tired all the time, but get an odd second wind at night. Am I becoming nocturnal? This doesn't bode well, since I'm trying to sync T and I's schedules. I went for a physical today and they're supposed to test my thyroid. The doctor said the ultrasound of it looked good, and I've had bloodwork done on it before that came back normal, but I still wonder. It's not normal to want to sleep this much, right? I used to have so much energy...ugh.
Making an amazing dinner with T might just be worth waiting until 7:25 to eat...a lot of adjustments have been needed, and instead of freaking out, I am starting to take joy in the sacrifice. It's worth it to go to bed a little earlier or eat a little later to be with him and to make him happy and fulfilled. He certainly pays me back. He keeps me laughing about moose made out of yogurt and makes me eggs for breakfast and a million other amazing things.
I'm sorry, am I making you nauseous? Oops.
I actually made an effort to get dressed today, with a healthy mix of just throwing things together. I tend to look my best when I do that. Even though I was going to the doctor, I refused to dress practically in just a t-shirt in jeans. I smoothed my hair down and put on my most awesome knee-high boots. And I really felt like a million bucks. Who knew?
Image by Getty Images via @daylifeit down and do it all in one go, instead of continually responding to the siren song of the computer.
I might get my first tattoo tomorrow evening. My friend Laura is going to help me design it, since I want to combine several animal paw prints in a relatively small design. She has several tattoos already and is pretty good at that sort of thing.
I got some cute little hairclips at Claire's the other day when my parents came to visit and I suddenly became thirteen again. Now that my hair is crazy-short, I really want to juxtapose it with a more feminine style. 'Juxtapose' sounds better than 'dressing ironically on purpose because it amuses me and confuses others'.
I've been reading Sybil Exposed and it's terrifying. Terrifying in a very special, realistic sort of way. That a doctor could be that selfish and short-sighted as to make her patient completely emotionally and financially dependent on her...and then callously tell that patient to 'get well' when the patient was no longer needed to advance her career...it's truly sickening. It seems that therapeutic boundaries and ethics in psychology are relatively new. I wonder...do psychiatrists and psychologists also take the Hippocratic oath? It seems they should. It is a sobering reminder of the need for boundaries in treatment. Even the most well-intentioned of us should constantly be checking ourselves. There are no excuses.
