I got home last night from a singularly long, miserable, weepy, frustrating day to a clean house, a kind (but nuts from sleep deprivation) husband, and a delicious meal of green things. There was asparagus, cabbage, and spinach all sauteed together with garlic and rosemary and other green things. He acted all crazy to try to make me laugh, tickling and jumping on me and kissing. It was really nice to be home. I'd expected it to be awful to be home, but it was nice.
I'm broke. It's scary. I'm tired and lazy and it's at least 5,000 degrees outside. Just walking out the door feels like getting slapped. The air is like a hair dryer, just blowing in your face. I hate it.
But inside our home, it's good. The dogs are being still. My man is sleeping next to me and mumbling to himself. There's a meeting tonight that I can go to if I want. I think I want.
Maybe he'll want to come with me?
Maybe I'll stop setting myself up for disappointment right this minute!