So I’m home this month. My next show doesn’t start rehearsals until Feb 9th, which means I’ve had plenty of time to help get the new apartment situated. Ben has been working like crazy all over the place, which puts most of the household chores on me at the moment. Which is totally fine, because when I’m in tech, he takes care of it all.
So this weekend, I did five loads of laundry. I vacuumed the apartment. I did the grocery shopping and ran some errands and put the pot rack up on the wall. I organized the spices and planned out the living room. I added a new lampshade in our bedroom and put pictures on the walls. I took the recycling up to my Dad’s since we don’t have it here. I packed a fantastic bagel sandwich for myself and one for Ben. And I made tuna noodle casserole in lunch sized portions stacked neatly in the fridge. And then I had myself an existential crisis on the upcoming wedding and the meaning of the word “wife”.
I woke up on the verge of tears because I skipped my shower yesterday, and by the time I woke up, the apartment had begun the scheduled water shut off so not only could I not take my overdue shower, I also could not make my morning cup of coffee. Ben had a couple water bottles in his car and I had a little water in my water bottle, so we scrounged up the two cups of water I needed. Once caffeinated, I was doing a bit better, although still in the middle of this etymological mire. So while I waited for the maintenance man to show up and install our new programmable thermostat so I could just go take my goddamn shower, I read a bunch of absolutely beautiful pieces by brilliantly powerful women, and it helped.
My grandmother called and we had a nice long conversation. I spent some time at the library today as well. I’ve got a stack of books that came highly recommended. I really don’t know where I am with this yet, but I’ll try to keep updating here as I figure things out. Meantime, I’ve got some reading to do.