Well, this weekend I baked cookies and then dropped an entire tray fresh out of the oven, so I sat on the floor beside the melty crumbs and cried. The next morning they were still there so I ate floor-cookies and I regret it, but it's a Monday, so I'm turning over a new leaf for this week. It'll be better than this weekend.
I'm varying from feeling content and helpful and self-realized and feeling the opposite. Not a lot of middle ground these days. Or ever? I have spent hours--HOURS--talking lately and a lot of listening and shopping for navy blue wedding shoes and Chinese food. I have been re-setting my alarm so I don't have time to get up in the mornings to go for a run, even though at one point I had done that for a month straight. I made meatballs.
Tomorrow will be two years married to S. He's still the best thing. I can't even imagine better. Sometimes I bring him tea and non floor-cookies while he's studying and sometimes he lifts me up off the ground when I'm being nonsensical and he is always warm and patient and gentle, even on his worst days. I cannot adequately communicate how wonderful it is to be married to that man. For the first year of our marriage he protected me and the second year he delighted me and we're into the third during which he will impress me with his ambition and intelligence and budding organizational skills. He got up at 5:30 this morning for clinicals and he was so good tempered about it, I can't even. He's never been anything less than remarkable and our relationship is way, way, way beyond anything I could have dreamed up during my dreaming years. We're really good together. I won't see him much today or tomorrow or Wednesday, but Thursday, when I finally do get a chance to see him for more than a few sleeping hours, we'll get to celebrate a little. We're putting a lot of stock into later right now and I think it'll work out.
