By: Revanche

Serenity, at night

June 6, 2014

“You don’t have to eat in the dark,” calls out PiC, sounding vaguely concerned that I’d finally lost my frugal mind and refused to use electricity for just one person. He doesn’t have to say it, I know he’s thinking it.

It’a not untrue that I was choosing not to turn on the light because it was just me and my croissant at the table, but that wasn’t the whole of it. I could see well enough in the near dark, but sometimes it’s just kind of nice to sit in the quiet night, with a snack, maybe poking through a blog. You’d think I get enough alone time, working mostly away from people everyday and seeing only PiC most days of the week. It’s a darn good thing I married a man whose company I actually enjoy in spades!It’s been a lot of long weeks, slogging through work day after work night after work day, in the midst of a fairly intense episode of fatigue, pain and more fatigue. But it’s also been a lot of exciting stuff going on too, taking up all my energy and brain space. I can see light at the end of the tunnel and even if I need more recovery time than ever to struggle up to the surface, it’s still pretty cool that I’ve pulled this off. I can share some of it in a month or two, probably, once the loose ends are tied up.

In the meantime, introspection in the dark is just what the doctor would order, I think, if I actually found a good therapist who’d recommend that which was soothing to my soul.

I feel like Mal at the end of the first episode of Firefly: my best effort today was only 2/3 good enough, I worked til 1 am the day before so was dragging from sleep deprivation, PiC had to pick up my slack from this week and run to the vet for Doggle’s ridiculously expensive medication and do the grocery run for me, arriving home exhausted, late and grumpy. I’d managed to make a soup but it wasn’t enough to serve as a meal for a normal human that expends energy so even my “sorry I couldn’t run the errands but have a nice dinner” gesture was… Well, inadequate. In an attempt to thank me for trying to make the day end nicely, he knocked a glass over and spilled water all over my pants, in a move that is so typically ME (confession: I forgot how to work a glass two days ago and spilled water all down my front); it was just so absurd we had to laugh.

But at the end of the day, we’re still flying.

Little as that may seem, it’s enough.

(By the by, I did figure out the old family recipe and made it twice without disaster, so I’m calling that a win.)

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