Way with words

I'm a journalist, a writer and a shower singer. I take pictures, but I don't fancy myself a photographer.

I read the New York Times and wish I could write like that.

I love receiving surprise gifts.

I'm married.

I have an undiagnosed chronic illness.

I wear high heels.

I eat peanut butter straight out of the jar.

I am more than the sum of my parts.

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Fri Nov 7

deep breath

The Friday after an election is always when the exhaustion hits.

Somehow the leftover atmosphere — regardless of the outcome — seems to get me through Wednesday and Thursday. I may even wake up Friday feeling like I’ll make it through the week this time. But by the middle of the day, I’m dragging.

I’m feeling it now. Too tired to write much. Just sitting in my parents’ guest rooms, candles lit, listening to the Hubs wash his hands.

I’m so glad he’s here. Even as tired as I am, I’ll stay up as late as he wants, talking, cuddling, giggling… Maybe even quietly having sex, who knows.

For tonight, though, just having him here is enough.

I’ll sleep enough when he’s gone (again).