Sheltering-in-Place, Day 10
The text on the image reads
Yesterday's adventures in Kitchenlandia took a bit of a physical toll. So when I finally got myself out of bed this morning, I thought today's post was going to be about resting and trying not to overdo it again. It sort of is. It's also about knowing how good I have it.
My silliness works for him. His silliness works for me. We're genuinely kind to each other. We make a good team.
I'm writing this outside on our little balcony drinking juice out of my flower mug while my husband works on an art project of his own nearby, and we try not to eaves drop on the shouting match happening down on the street. No one seems to be in imminent danger of physical harm. It seems to be relationship stuff. It's none of our business. We both hope they find a way to be okay through however long this shelter-in-place thing lasts.
That sentiment goes for everyone. This is a lot of stress on each of us individually as well as on our relationships. I only know a fraction of how hard the relationship stress is because of the nature of ours. We get along really well. It's just the two of us. The plants are fairly self-sufficient. Our pet is a robot.
Maybe it's apropos that I'm wearing my bee sweater dress today. Bees have all sorts of different ways of living. One way of living won't work for every species of bee, or even every kind of bee within a species or community. Some do better in massive honey-filled beehives with lots of structure and company. Others prefer to live alone in a hole in a tree. Maybe the two people yelling on the sidewalk will find out that one of them is a carpenter bee, whereas the other is a leaf cutter bee. Maybe they'll end up being bumble bees together after all. Who knows? I think my metaphor wandered off a little too far.
Initially, I put on the bee dress because some longstanding pain issues got kicked into high gear due to yesterday's choice to conquer the oven not once, but twice. I wrapped myself in love and honey, so to speak, in the guise of a bee. It's a way to support myself while I'm feeling pretty crappy. The flower mug, that I'm drinking from exclusively today, is from a friend's support group for endometriosis, called Bloomin' Uterus. I don't really want to talk about being in pain, so I'm moving on. I'm getting better, anyway.
Today, I'm taking this virtual space to remind myself to be grateful that this is the life I have right now in this moment of unexpected hardship and continuing uncertainty. I have a bee dress, a support group or two, a loving husband, and cupcakes.