This weekend I was alone. It rained, and got cold, and rained some more. I made chili. I left all the lamps on, all the time. I watched an obsessive amount of the Gilmore Girls. I pulled all the winter clothes out of the bins under the bed, sniffed their mustiness and embarked on an all day wash all the clothes marathon. I tried my best not to look into Jane’s empty room. I did not change out of pajamas. A friend moved into my complex and brought me a pint of Cherry Garcia, which was without a doubt the highlight of my weekend. Plus, it was nice to know that if I’d fallen and couldn’t get up, someone would have checked on me. Yes, I realize that is incredibly depressing and morose. I blame all this ebola news. If one more person says “but it’s not airborne” I’m gonna yell, “neither is the flu!” But, I digress.
Obviously, I had myself a little pity party weekend. There may have been wine.
But in the end I was well rested. And now I’m no longer wearing pajamas. I joined the land of the living. And I get my baby back soon. She’ll like the new flowers on the table, and the pumpkin, and the new snacks in the kitchen cabinet. The kid is super into snacks. Legs like hollow tree trunks that one. I’m happy and looking forward to the day. In the words of Paris Geller, I could hug a dolphin.
Told you I watched an obsessive amount of Gilmore Girls.
