I feel like I already know how the next six weeks will go

I mean, I did go to bed on time and do my morning routine, very determined not to let the day deteriorate into a big, fat slump-y mess.

After breakfast I needed to get going fast, I answered quite a few birthday wishes, called my husband’s aunt on the phone and then my mother. Did the dishes a little late, at noon, trying to listen to the Busoni version of that Bach chaconne for solo violin and then to the original but failing. At first I tried listening though a speaker so that whoever came into the kitchen would know what I was up to but the sound was bad and it didn’t help at all. Switched back to earphones and had to stop and start the whole thing three times or so.

And that was a bit of a theme for the rest of the day.

It’s not like people are always coming in and out of the kitchen, and it’s also not as if I were doing things that required focus there, it is just that I have such a hard time starting and stopping things and that it feels like every time I make up my mind to, let’s say, do the dishes someone waltzes in to tell me a story about a video he watched. Or like the whole afternoon was overshadowed by my husband’s plans for today with a friend and the friend upending everything my husband had been looking forward to. Including me looking up trains and which ticket to use twice.

All in all I spent many hours reading and playing solitaire and waiting. So much so that at one point I pulled out my knitting and read my novel in short bursts between my husband leaving and coming back again.

So you may ask why I never left the room and just sat elsewhere and peace?

Because I never got to the point where I could decide which thing to work on. It was all very vague. I did go to the annex to do bodyweight training, so that was good. At that point my husband wandered in and out in search of the tool for his new scythe that he couldn’t find. He didn’t want my help either, just to talk about the frustration of not finding it.

It turned up in his bed between the sheets. He must have put it down on the comforter after using it and later folded the top of the comforter over it without realizing.

I did help with cutting things up for lunch:

That is the Lambrusco my husband had put in the fridge the day before instead of champagne but we ended up not drinking it for my birthday so decided to try it for lunch. I also decided to have a beer in the evening because I was frustrated.

I also took ages to decide which book to read next, starting half a dozen of them. I think I’ll reread “Divinity 36“ by Gail Carriger because I need something comforting.

So I guess I’ll try to do better today.