Herself sat before the computer, waiting. Waiting for things out of her control: waiting -- nearly eight hours later -- for confirmation from her office that a task that had to be finished today was, in fact, completed; waiting for information from Beloved Husband regarding his business trip, for which he left two days ago and for which he will not return for another two days. Waiting on all the little things that were within her control, too, such as feeding feeding the pets at the appropriate hour and giving the ottoman-shaped dog his insulin, or folding the laundry.
Using the Waiting to avoid mopping the tile or making muffins or using the elliptical trainer. Or even showering. For who cares? She thought. She did not. The Offspring, lovely people that they are, were content with their dinner and were enjoying the downtime of a Friday evening. They would not notice the spots of dirt on the floor or Herself's dog-fur-covered T-shirt. She chewed her fingernails, and berated herself internally for lacking the motivation to accomplish even the smallest things that are within her control.
She listened to Down (Jason Walker). It seemed to fit.
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Progress. Her work task has officially been completed; the pets have been fed. She has decided to take a Friday off from muffin-making to collect herself better. She also placed a telephone call, as requested by her father, to Uncle S. to see how he is faring.
She delayed the call as long as she could. She is uncomfortable with the telephone, as you know, and she still worried about what to say to her widower Uncle. Her worries were unfounded, though; she and Uncle S. had a very amiable conversation about the miscellany of ordinary life, dogs and walking trails and Thanksgiving plans. Such a lovely man, is Uncle S. Talking with him helped Herself feel a bit less lonely this evening as well.
She is still listening to Down, though it is now more of a comfort than a sorrow. She plans to put on her sneakers and go for a walk. That will help, too.
190
1 year ago
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