The last couple of weeks have been hard for me. Physically. I haven’t been feeling well and when that happens, well everything else falls apart. My apartment looks like a bomb hit it. And my life feels completely upside down. So many things that I should have done, need to do, want to do.
It’s at times like these that I start to think, life would be so much easier if I had a husband. Someone to take care of me when I’m sick. To clean the apartment. And call the drs office, and the insurance company and the drug store… To manage my family and make sure my bills are paid. To be there. Here.
Not that I can think of a single man who I’ve been seriously involved with in the past 15 years who’d be good at that stuff. Nope. I seem to have gone out of my way to date men who wouldn’t be there for me. Who I couldn’t count on.
Sorry about the pity party. Like I said, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. I’m worn down and exhausted and seriously overmedicated. And vulnerable. Too vulnerable.
Suddenly, my independence seems like folly. Like an experiment gone bad.
The good news is, I’m starting to feel better. Better today that yesterday. And I have every reason to hope that tomorrow will be better than today. So maybe I’ll be loving my life again by the end of the week.
Tags: Sick, single