A Day Off

I've had lots of days off over the past year, due to my cancer treatment.  But those don't really count, I guess, because those were days spent at chemotherapy or at the hospital having surgery, or recovering from those events.  I read a lot of books, I think.   I don't even have any memories of some of those days, because I was asleep.  I do have a vague impression that people were in the room with me,  There's also a memory of my son poking me to make sure that I was still alive and not a zombie.

But maybe I imagined that. 

I did have Veteran's Day off.  I think that's great, and hey!  I had the day off.   I had a few happy moments, thinking of the fun things that I could do.

What did I do?

I did not sleep late.

I did not get a mani or a pedi. 

I did not get a massage. 

I did not go shopping.

I did not go see a movie.

I did not have a date to meet my husband somewhere fun.

I did not treat myself to a nice lunch at a fancy restaurant. 

I did not go for a walk.

I would have liked to do some of those things.   Except the mani/pedi.  I still don't have toenails, and my fingernails are still not quite long enough.  

Instead,  I got Zane ready and dropped him off at school.  I came back home to find out that my dog Maisy had somehow retrieved the family-sized tub of butter off of a counter.  She ate all of it.  Since yesterday she somehow climbed on top of the table and ate a giant dark chocolate bar, this necessitated a phone call to the vet. 

I did have a date with the plumber, who showed up to fix the leaking garbage disposal.  I did do five loads of laundry.  I did vacuum.  I did wash some dishes.  I did carry out the recycling.  I did pick up toys and clothes and found several missing socks.  I gathered up the items needed for soccer practice and put them on a chair.

And I had a nap.  

Mom stuff.  I used to get mad about having to do all these chores on my day off.  But over the last year I've developed a new appreciation for routine tasks.  It felt pretty good to do normal things in my own house.  I'm getting my strength, and my stamina back after cancer.  It's something to be grateful for, even if they are chores.   

The next day off will involve a massage, though. 


Go visit Kat Bouska, and her Writer's Workshop!  The prompt I chose was:

1. You have a day off, what do you do with your free time?

My Husband the Fixer

I was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen a couple of days ago when I discovered the sink wasn't draining. I hollered something to Larry, who murmured something unintelligible from the other room. I finished cleaning up and went on to other, more pleasant activities. About an hour later, my husband gets up from his Xbox game and comes into the kitchen to get a drink.

"Why didn't you tell me the garbage disposal was broken?" he yells from the kitchen.

"I did tell you!" I yell right back. We are all about the communicating, my sweetheart and I.

Larry decided to sleep on the matter, and to be honest, I was glad. My husband is not known for his maintainence skills. Most of the little odd jobs that need to get done around the house are done by...my dad or someone we can ply with alcohol. Larry means well, but he's a computer geek. Geeks just don't tend to pay attention to how to fix stuff around the house unless it's some sort of electronic device. Understandably, I was worried that we would end up having to pay extra because Larry 'fixed' things.(and to be fair, I am no better at "fixing" things. There is a really good reason that I am not allowed to have power tools.)

The next morning as we were getting ready to leave to go to lunch, Larry poured Drano into the disposal. When we came back, everything looked...exactly the same. Larry made a bold decision to put on gloves and reach into the disposal and see if he could pull some of what was blocking the drain out of there. I say it was a bold decision because we've both seen way too many horror movies where bad things happen to people who stick their fingers down the garbage disposals; let's just say that it never ends well and that it creeps me out.

Larry stuck his hand down in there. He looked perplexed. I watched, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice. I had no idea what the heck I was going to do, but I was going to do it quickly.

This time, thankfully, my services were not required. One of Zane's cups had fallen into the disposal and become wedged in there, blocking the drain. Larry was able to get a knife and pry it out of there. After that, of course, the disposal worked perfectly, as did the drain. Larry began dancing in the kitchen, his hands in the air.

"I fixed it! I fixed it!" he chortled. "You were going to pay a plumber to fix that, and I did it!!!" I just smiled and let him dance. Sometimes the key to a good marriage is knowing when to keep your mouth shut.