Breaking From My Rut

I may have mentioned previously that my husband sometimes refers to me as "rut girl". That's because I love my ruts. Routine is comforting. For awhile, I couldn't break from routine even in the simplest of ways without coming completely unglued. Medication Therapy My amazing coping skills have made things a lot better but I'm still more often to make a choice to stay in the rut most of the time.

So yesterday, I ventured outside of my rut. I went to the library to meet up with complete strangers and write. When I arrived, it turns out the other faceless names from the internet were men. We barricaded ourselves in a tiny room with no windows and spent two hours barely speaking, just working on our respective projects. After typing up a couple thousand words, I then drove home.

To most of you, this is no big deal. To me? A big deal.

I left home without really needing to do so. I met two strangers, who happened to be men, without feeling at all anxious and without stuttering or stupidity. I was crammed in a tiny enclosed space for two hours without claustrophobia. And then I drove home after dark despite my night blindness.

Today, I'm grateful for progress. A few weeks ago, while Joe was out of town, I met a friend (really, she's more of his friend if you want to get technical) for dinner one evening. All of these things are outside my rut. I pushed myself to make the harder (for me) choice. And it went well.

I can't help but feel a little proud about that.

Now? I'm off to the bookstore. Look at me go!

Proof He's Human

My husband... He's many things. Brilliant. Driven. Compassionate. Financial Wizard. Master Spider Killer and Mouse Whisperer.

So I'm grateful today for that occasional reminder that he's also human.

Joe: I can't find my belt anywhere! I can't go to work without a belt!
me: Where did you have it last?
Joe: I wore it yesterday!
me: Okay, where are the pants you wore yesterday?
Joe: I have no idea! I can't find them anywhere! I can't go to work without a belt!
me: Do you remember where you took those pants off last night?
Joe: No! I've looked everywhere! I even looked in my gym bag from yesterday!
me: Well, do you have an emergency back-up belt you can wear?
Joe: No! I need my belt! I can't go to work without a belt!

This whole time, we are both tearing the house apart, looking for his pants in even the most unlikely of places. Like the laundry basket. And the washing machine.

me: Found them!
Joe: Where were they?
me: Under the gym bag you looked through twice.
Joe: But I looked in that bag!
me: UNDER the bag. You need to move things!!!
Joe: Oh.
me: I should maybe whip you with this belt so you'll keep better track of it next time.
Joe: That's not funny.Give me my belt - I'm late for work.

Ah, yes. The other many things that my husband is - Human. Abuser of Exclamation Points. Addicted to Belts.

No wonder I love him.

Random Llamas

When we set off for our weekend of awesomeness, I had a few ideas what we might do. I knew we were going to a concert. I envisioned a little sight-seeing, some wine-tasting, some amazing food.

In my wildest dreams, I was not expecting llamas.

And yet, there they were. Llamas at one of the wineries we visited. We watched them run around all crazy like llamas do. One of them looked like he had dreadlocks. A couple were saddled up for a trail excursion.

Sometimes life hands you lemons, and sometimes life hands you llamas.

I'm grateful for the ability to be occasionally silly with my often-too-serious husband and to find joy and fun in random things.

Like llamas.

P.S. Llamas is just a funny word. The more I type it, the more I giggle. Try saying it out loud without smiling. Llamas. Bwahahaha!

In-House Laundry

Today, I'm doing laundry. Such a boring chore. But I remember when it was not only boring but also time-consuming.

Our first apartment meant loading the clothes in the car and driving to the laundromat. Cold, boring, and quarters.

Then there was our second apartment, which had a washer and dryer in the basement. This meant caring the laundry down two flights of stairs, outside, around to the front of the building, down another flight of stairs, into a dark and creepy basement. And quarters.

Our third apartment had on-site laundry across the parking lot so again, down two flights of stairs and then outside.

But that apartment also had a washer and dryer hookup inside. And from the day we moved in, I dreamed of a day when we could afford to do laundry inside our apartment. When that day finally came, I almost kissed the delivery man. Instead, I settled for washing our sheets and towels and told myself I would never take the ability to do laundry in my home for granted.

So that's why today, I'm remembering to be thankful for my washer and dryer that allow me to do laundry while writing quietly in the comfort of my own home. No driving, no quarters, no fighting for machines, no wasting entire afternoons in noisy cold places with strangers.

Lovely Weekend

The weekend isn't over yet but so far it's been really great. It's been so long since Joe and I were able to spend a whole weekend just sorta wandering around without a schedule, enjoying being together.

I'm off to find more weekend things to be grateful for - the day is young!