Dude, You're Harshing My Rut
So let's just get this straight. I love my husband, and I love spending time with him. Er, just perhaps not so much time as we have been spending this last week. His inability to be active has ensured that we are practically 24/7. And it's starting to get to me.
Now I feel bad for him and all that. I am so grateful that he was not severely injured. But he's getting in the way of my routine. It might be a shitty routine, but it's my shitty routine and I happen to like it.
The times Mr. Personality usually eats? Off. The time I spend cleaning? Poof, not that there was all that much of it to begin with. Normal activities that I do with Mr. Personality? Not happening. My laundry schedule? Ha! What laundry schedule? But even so...
I remember something similar happening to my grandparents when my grandfather retired. My grandmother had her day scheduled just so, and the appearance of my grandfather at breakfast when he was usually gone by then threw her for a complete loop for a little while. They had to make some major adjustments in order not to drive each other crazy. For a while, my grandfather tried every hobby known to man in order to stifle his boredom. From rug-hooking to whittling, he desperately latched on to whatever activity could make him feel productive.
This situation with us will in no way be long term, but I'm thinking perhaps I should urge Hubba-hubba to take up macrame.
Now I feel bad for him and all that. I am so grateful that he was not severely injured. But he's getting in the way of my routine. It might be a shitty routine, but it's my shitty routine and I happen to like it.
The times Mr. Personality usually eats? Off. The time I spend cleaning? Poof, not that there was all that much of it to begin with. Normal activities that I do with Mr. Personality? Not happening. My laundry schedule? Ha! What laundry schedule? But even so...
I remember something similar happening to my grandparents when my grandfather retired. My grandmother had her day scheduled just so, and the appearance of my grandfather at breakfast when he was usually gone by then threw her for a complete loop for a little while. They had to make some major adjustments in order not to drive each other crazy. For a while, my grandfather tried every hobby known to man in order to stifle his boredom. From rug-hooking to whittling, he desperately latched on to whatever activity could make him feel productive.
This situation with us will in no way be long term, but I'm thinking perhaps I should urge Hubba-hubba to take up macrame.
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