Almost daily my spouse comes in from work and asks me about my day. Clueless as to why I didn't spend half my day outside enjoying the beautiful sunshine.
Well, since I'm keeping it real, let me give you a couple (dozen) reasons.
Once I get out of bed, go for a potty break, take my meds, take the dog out for a pit stop, grab a quick breakfast and finally hit the sofa, I'm not only exhausted, I'm sweating profusely and breathing shallow. So I eat, then rest. After I catch my breath it's time for round two. Trek back to the kitchen with my breakfast dishes, give the dog her morning treat and head to the bedroom to make the bed. Once the bed has been made I grab a load of laundry and make my way back to the other end of the house. Once again, time to cool down and rest. Round three....time for another potty break (the dog and me). Change out the laundry and then off to shower. Room temp water. Hot increases my body temp and cold makes my muscles and joints stiffen and ache. Out of the shower and sweating like I've ran a triathlon. I dress and make my way back to my trusty spot on the sofa. Time to cool down and rest. At this point I'm squeaky clean, yet sweaty and exhausted. Before I know it round four has quickly approached. My stomach tells me it's lunchtime and the dog has reminded me that her bladder is smaller than mine. Our quick trip around the house has caused my head to spin, my feet to burn and my skin to pour sweat. Back in the house I grab a quick bite to eat and take another rest. Next up, round five, check the laundry. Change out loads, fold and put away what I can. Clear away my lunch mess and rest a bit more.
Sounds monotonous, huh. It is. So why don't I spend my days soaking up the rays. Basking in the sunshine. As if the above routine isn't reason enough, honestly, I can't stand to spend time in my neglected yard. The yard I used to take so much pride in. I would brave the heat, relax in the pool and get completely lost in the beautiful place I called home. Now there's nothing pulling me outside.
So when my spouse walks in the door every afternoon I feel a bit like Lucy Ricardo. "Ricky" expecting to sit at the table with a five course meal, hear about my productive day.....all while I'm dressed in my Sunday's best.
Some afternoon soon I fully expect to hear him yell....."Lucy, I'm home."