I woke up today and quickly realized that my knee was hurt bad. I think I irritated the joint while working out a few days ago and now it’s swollen and forcing me to spend much of the day seated and on ice. There’s a lot to do around the house though so I’m up on it as much as I can be. The kitchen is a mess. The bathroom needs cleaning. The laundry needs folding. The snake enclosures need attention. The plants need watering, and a lot more. I’m opting out of dinner cooking duties with the promise, the hope, that things will be better tomorrow.
It was a bad writing day again. I can’t think past the pain and the things I have to do so I spent my time doing those things and listening to podcasts to calm me and to sooth my loneliness while my wife works. The good news is I did just about everything I set out to do. The bad news is I still feel bad for what I couldn’t.
I’ll never quite get over how little Sundays feel like Sundays when Mondays aren’t anything like Mondays should be. The only thing that has stayed the same is how little I loath to start the week. The transition from weekend to work week is a painful and regular reminder that time is still passing away. With more time to think and more mental space to pay attention, I realize I miss days that do by. Perhaps this is one of those things we use work and relationships to distract from. I miss last week. I miss yesterday. I miss an hour ago.
I can’t imagine allowing myself to feel this loss on the scale of years.