Today was a “I don’t want to be doing what I’m doing, I want to do something else” type of day. I called Caleb from work all pouty faced and bemoaned my state of stuck-at-workedness. Not that there weren’t things to do at work, not that I don’t enjoy work on a typical day, but all I could think of was the painting in the library, the tomatoes waiting to be canned, the garden needing water, the floor needing a major cleaning, the family room in a state of total disaster befitting a dump-and-run storeroom, the window seat project laying the the middle of the floor for a week, supper that would need to be fixed, laundry on the bed, mending in the box, piano lesson plan to be prepared, and church offeratory coming up this Sunday for which I haven’t even picked out a song, just to name a few items on my mind.
I lasted out the day and drove home totally exhausted, not because it had been busy but because I had been in a state of discontent consternation (that and because I had stayed up way too late the night before engrossed in a good book). As I got closer and closer to home and our very comfy couch, eyes drooping and mood sour, I kept thinking, “Caleb is waiting for me at the gym.” And then I arrived home and sat down on our comfy couch and I began to have one of those little arguments with myself. “Caleb won’t mind if I stand him up.” vs “No, I can’t stand him up. He’ll be waiting for me at that lousy gym.”
So, I came to a compromise. I pried myself off the couch, changed into my gym clothes and drove down the street just to tell The Man I wouldn’t be coming. I don’t have to work out AND I don’t stand him up. Win, win.
You know what that sweet Man did? He said, “That’s ok, baby, go home and get some sleep.” Aaaand, when he came home, he used the front door, the door we rarely use, so he wouldn’t disturb me. Aaaaaaand when I came into the kitchen a little while later, he turned me around and said go sleep or watch a show or read. I’ll get supper.
Yep, he’s pretty perfect that Man o’ Mine. *sigh*