We went running this morning. My throat is a bit sore and I got a stitch in my side before we started to run. When the alarm went off, I seriously considered going back to sleep. But we went. And he said he was proud of me.
When I came home, the dishes were done, the bed was made, and I can smell a whiff of Murphy's oil soap, as if he has cleaned up.
He has taken to working Friday nights and Sunday during the day. I find myself doing little during these times. Everything is quiet. I read. I sleep. I write. I sleep some more. I may occasionally cook something.
It's disgustingly sweet how much I adore this man. I understand the silliness of it, but he's my everything. We laugh together. We dance together. We watch Wipeout together. We root against each other's teams while we watch football. We work together, both of our heads bent over computers.
But can I just say that I look forward to these Fridays and Sundays more than I could have ever dreamed possible? Being alone for just these few hours is fan-freaking-tastic.
My husband never understands how much I love the semesters that he teaches a night class. But those few hours of just being by myself are so much fun!
ReplyDeleteI couldn't possibly agree more. I love those times to myself where I can just lay around and enjoy the quiet. We have a standing Tuesday night date where one of us cooks and then we sit together and watch Wipeout, and it's my favorite time of the week. But the times where I'm just alone with a book and the silence of my apartment are a close second.
ReplyDeleteI hear you! I do enjoy being with my husband, but I've loved the busy factor in his world. There's something so juicy and cozy about time alone with a great book.
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