My husband left the house upset today. Specifically, with me.
On most days, he gets up around 5:00 a.m. (I know, right?). He prepares Maggie's bottle and starts my coffee. He then completes a portion of his to-do list for the day.
Generally, he has accomplished an astonishing amount of work before I wander out at 7:00 a.m. I promptly park my rear on the couch and watch the news, weather reports, Curious George, Sid the Science Kid and Super Why.
Lately his lists have include items that have to do with moving which include (but are not limited to): Cleaning, sorting, packing, tossing and other things that I am really not often in the mood to do.
This weekend he cleaned out the garage. This resulted in a wicked huge pile at the end of our driveway awaiting pickup by the super efficient garbage specialists.
I had to be extra-special attentive this morning as I backed out.
I tend to run over things like curbs, bikes and children's toys. My reasoning is that they shouldn't be placed in an area where I would unwittingly run over them in the first place; therefore, I shouldn't be faulted.
But alas, these mistakes are held against me.
That said, Chris was functioning at 110% this morning. I had only slowly revved up to about...say...40%.
When this happens, it usually doesn't work out well for us. I get frustrated with his fast, loud talking and he gets frustrated that I don't seem to care. I maintain that do care, it just takes me a little bit longer.
"_____ offered to babysit Maggie so you could pack," he said. Super loud and super fast. "Should I call her and tell her when to come over, since you don't have a phone?"
I regarded him blearily then took a sip of coffee.
The phone situation is still not taken care of and hasn't been replaced since being laundered about a month ago. Thus, I am impossible to reach during the day.
People are trying to reach me, I am sure. But oddly enough, I sort of like being unreachable. It is quite peaceful.
"Well," he asked.
"I was thinking about going to the gym," I replied.
We joined a gym yesterday and I was working on the courage to show my face there today.
Showing up at a new gym, especially on that first day, requires a large amount of courage for me. This gym offers free childcare. And beach weather is approaching at a surprisingly fast speed. These two factors were all the motivation I currently needed.
"I am not thinking about the gym this week, I'm thinking about packing and moving," he said.
The silent "and you should be, too," hung in the air.
"Why don't you ask her to come over during Maggie's nap," I suggested.
"You want me to ask someone to come 'babysit' Maggie during naptime? Really," he asked.
It took me a moment for the silliness to register.
"I'll just work during her naptime," I said. I was planning to watch "Law Abiding Citizen" and the new Real Housewives of New York City. I am super flexible, so I suppose those could wait.
He gestured at the whole situation going on in our closet.
"I'm going through clothes to take to the resale shop. Perhaps you could do that, too, and I'll take a load over today," he said.
I observed all of the clothes hanging in my closet, about 20% of which I wore. "I'm keeping all of these. They don't fit now, but they will."
The story of my life. I'm not ready to part with them. Truly and honestly ~ not ready
Hence my trip to the gym this morning. That, and my sh**y news at the doctor's office on Monday. He read the results of my blood tests.
"What," I exclaimed. Too harshly, perhaps.
"Your cholesterol is pretty high," the doctor explained. Specifically, 237 high. It was up from about 198 in November.
I was pissed. I honestly think that the lab screwed my test results up with someone else. I am the salad with balsamic vinegar and tuna fish queen.
I thought of all of the time and effort I put into trying to choose the "low/lower sodium" choices in my already limited diet. I am not really THAT old and we very rarely eat red meat. How more not fun could a diet be?
So today, I was going to the gym.
On the treadmill, I quickly discovered that I am a really, super slow jogger. The beauty of jogging outside was that I didn't notice how slow I actually was. I didn't take notice at all until Chris joined me for a "jog" and basically walked as I trotted along, breaking a huge sweat.
I did ten minutes on the elliptical machine until there was an unoccupied treadmill. Then I started in on my "jog" to the tune of 14 minute miles.
I couldn't watch the t.v.'s in front of me because they were situated too close to my machine. It had been a while since I had been on a treadmill ~ I was unsteady and in fear of falling off. I'm sure it has happened before and I didn't want to be "that person."
In my long stint of gym absence, I had forgotten how it revitalizes me for the day.
I actually believe that I am now ready for my closet. Which ~ believe me ~ is not a job for the weary.
Although I am a little slower on the uptake than my husband, I can get things done, too.
Just not before seven in the morning.
He still loves me and makes my coffee in the morning... to help me move just a little bit faster.