This weekend was thoroughly uneventful. Chester and I cuddled quite a lot, as you can see from the picture above. This is not necessarily my best angle, but it’s one of the few pictures of Chester and me. I’m usually the one taking the pictures.
It was just too cold to do anything! It is now fall break for K right now and I can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. He needs a break.
I did finish a great book! It’s called Darkplaces by Gillian Flynn. I have all three of her novels on my Kindle and am excited to try out the mystery genre for the first time. I’m enjoying it thus far. I haven’t finished a book in awhile, so I’m glad to be getting back into reading mode. I usually read during winter because it’s the best time to wrap myself in blankets and sit for hours on end without feeling too terribly bad about doing so.
One thing we did do this weekend, like we do every weekend, is go to church on Sunday morning. Every Sunday, I put up a fight like a child and try to convince K that we should stay home for some reason or another and then whine all the way to church until we leave after the sermon. Like the mature individual that he is, he gets me to go and doesn’t listen to the whining. He does what he wants and I appreciate that.
Church, and one so huge as this one, is one of my unhappy places. I’m sad to say it, but aggressive Megan comes out here. I hate the fact that I have to sometimes shake hands, but I’ve started to get out of that by flying past people or hiding behind other people as I walk through the door. I hate that I can hear a symphony of coughing and sneezing and nose blowing. I especially can’t stand plates being passed around. The smudged finger prints on the brass are indications to me that the things haven’t been washed before I touch them. It absolutely makes my skin crawl. I sanitize my hands before and after touching these things.
This Sunday I was especially grouchy. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s because I was tired and just didn’t want to deal with all that anxiety early in the morning. I’m not sure, but I kick myself every time I take my anxiety issues out on K. I feel so bad for him sometimes that he has to put up with my anxious ways. I was really irritable and not nice. I snapped back at him quite a few times. I refused to sing, which is something I never do. Finally, I just took a few breaths, told myself that it was ok, and held his hand and laid my head on his shoulder. I started to calm down and force myself to be kind. Sometimes this is the best way to get past that point of discomfort. I’m glad I did because it makes for terrible days when I don’t.
I know you read this K and I just want to say I’m sorry for all the grief I put you through. Thank you for putting up with me and loving me. I love you so much.