Nope. Not me: the Man. Because, bless him, I'm finally having that mental health day. And, now that more than half of it has slid by, I'm taking stock.
What are you going to do? a friend asked. I think you should curl up with a gigantic cup of tea, and do some non-useful writing. She grinned, knowing that I would smile back. I did.
And yes, I'm doing some of that. But first, I hung hooks in the closet, organized the shelves, and did some sorting of old papers. I learned how to take apart the drain in my dishwasher, thanks to Mike, and discussed shut-off valve options with him. Preferably, non-leaking ones. Muttered while hunting for things in my tool box - okay, bag - and spent some time sorting out plumbing things that I may learn what to do with someday, and wondering what on earth this or that tool-like object actually does. For such mysteries happen when you inherit your husband's grandfather's tools. On the mental list: fix hole in wall, rehang towel bar, ask J if she knows about the oddments.
They are old, darkened wood and metal, and I wonder what the Man's grandfather used them for. He died before I met the Man, and there's a quiet blank where I'd otherwise picture him holding an odd or ment, and doing something. Calmly, relaxed and focused in ways that I think he ought to be, as the owner of these certain, poised objects. I packed them away, tetrising them back into the never big enough, locked window-seat.
It was a good morning. And now I'm tapping away, chatting with you.
As I type, one of the kids' Purim costumes (Pokemon! pirate! feathery, curling crochet!) is sitting next to me, the crochet hook stuck through. On the floor is a putty knife and some foam tube stuff that should help with the ginormous, uncaulkable cracks in the bathroom tiles, and I'll be stuffing and caulking soon. Really? the preschool director said. That's not precisely - restful - she mused, and paused. But the guy in the hardware store understood perfectly. Just got to get that done, right? He mused, and I nodded. Yep. I'll feel better for it.
A couple of days ago, I began collecting things to do on post-its. One idea was to collect and prioritize old things to do. So that they might actually get done, rather than vanishing into old day-planner pages, and resurrecting themselves at 12.30 am, when whatever it is just ain't getting done. The list stretched on and on, with things like:
* go through two boxes of memorabilia from my childhood room. Okay, one box
* finish old files in wooden box
* finish sewing a gift for a child - now well over a year past due
* finish a necklace that the Toddles designed, began, and asked me to complete.
* finish the necklace that I began and almost - almost - completed two weeks ago
* make mishloach manot food
* take measurements for work that needs doing
* hang blinds in study (note: blinds are sitting in study, waiting)
* scrub mildew in bathroom
* hang ketuba
* prep 4 things for post office run
* write 7 - no, 8? 9? - overdue emails
* call back and pester Sprint, for allowing someone to foist additional charges on our account, which we didn't ask for. wtf???
* deal with medical bills, match to EOB (explanation of benefits) and prep for MSA reimbursement
* inbox is over 1000 emails again. DO SOMETHING.
* blog. Please?
But looking at my lists, I begin to wonder. Is there a difference between a mental health day, and a clearing out of things that need to be done, but haven't yet been done day? A household maintenance day, versus a rest and think day?
What do you think?