The long weekend has really thrown me out; since J and I decided to spend it doing as little as possible (he being sick, and I seizing the chance for slobbery), the last two days, in contrast, have passed like a violent dream. We have been trying to catch up on the washing, the *vaccuming and the tidying and putting away of things, even if only in our minds and in passing conversation.
“But,” I thought “this afternoon I will remedy that”
…I can vaccum the unit and clean the kitchen and
squeeze in time for a load of washing
as the b a k e d d i n n e r b a k e s .
…and perhaps I’ll straighten the towels,
make our bed, tidy the loungeroom
and get around to the final thanking
of the guests who attended
Then, my tummy started to hurt (I think I ate a dodgy apple? It did taste funny…)
“ohhh! I feel yucky”
“hmm… maybe no to the housework…”
When J arrived,
(here he is now,
I can hear the footsteps
and the shifting of the door
keys and the
hello I love you.
– My favourite.)
he felt sick too. We had easy food and watched the football (yippeee! the blues won!) and soon my tummy felt settled again. Just in time for a good night’s sleep : )
*I feel guilty that we haven’t done the vacuum cleaning because our floors are disgusting and the vaccum cleaner in question was kidnapped from my parent-in-law’s house…