A long, short week

You would think since Monday was a holiday and I took Tuesday off to mentally prepare or what was to come, it would have been an easy week, nope, not a chance in hell.

Each day was at least 8 hours of meetings. On the rare break I called or texted Sir. I felt bad that I couldn’t speak to him as often as I would have liked. He knows when it comes to work, you have to do what you have to do.

My days didn’t end when I walked out of my office. Tuesday I went to fancy yoga and met my new enemy, the douche dom yoga hipster man. What an utter asshat. I more than anything want to bring crazy lady to take his class. She can show him what a real yoga Dom can be.

Wednesday, yet again I had to color correct my friends little sisters hair. It came with threats if she does it again, the free ride at my living room salon ends. I told her I’ll charge her a hundred dollars each time I have to do this again. Truth, even that price is a good deal. It has not a damn thing to do with the money, but the kid is going to have no hair left if she keeps messing with it.

Thursday was a trip to my Aunt’s for my cousins birthday. It was ok, except for my starving to death. She made stew, I don’t eat that…..ever. N picked me up and we had a nice visit. Long cuddles. I told her I felt as though I had put myself in a glass house. Since Sir had gotten sick I’ve allowed no one to touch me. She thought I meant sexually. No, I mean I’ve very much shut down my connections to people in both a physical and mental way.

When I was little I used to dream of living in a glass house. I think this is because Nana’s favorite saying was people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. I could never understand why living in a glass house was a bad thing, or why they would want to throw stones:)

My glass house was so pretty and it was surrounded my gardens and trees and a lovely place to live. I used to talk in my sleep about my glass house and all of the animals that would come and visit. My mother would tell me all about it as for a good deal of my childhood we shared a bedroom.

Funny how in my forties I remember this like it was yesterday.

Last night was all dependent on the weather and NYC in the spring is a fickle thing. Like the rest of the week my meetings went long, but L waited for me. The rain held off and we met up with another friend to do Yoga in the Park. It was nice, relaxing. L has had some rather shitty things going on and has been eating her feelings. I told her, it’s easy yoga, so what you can and at least we get out.

We cracked jokes and nothing about that practice was serious at all. We all needed that for our own reasons.

Exhausted, we passed on going out after and all went home.

Sir and I had a nice chat. It was the first time he sounded like himself since the incident. My main concern has been him not being able to accept the restrictions that his health will have on his life. It’s much more than having to change diet, it’s a mental thing when stuff you took for granted now becomes effort.

I haven’t said it until now, but there is a real chance that travel is not something that can happen as it once did. I know this and I really think he does too, but how to deal with it? I know our friends will all help, but what we need to do is really keep spirits up. He’s the cup half full guy, I suck at that. I’m really trying. This Thurday is the follow-up and I’m just keeping myself busy. Every thing going on at work will help me, I’m just worried about him.

Sorry Sir, I know I’m many blogs behind, but it’s time to head out.


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