However, I was carrying on a full-time job. So was he, and he travels at really odd hours. We were exhausted and barely able to find 5 relaxing minutes together where we could talk about anything other than settling in our apartment. Also, my health was already mysteriously deteriorating, but I was pushing through it, pumping iron at the gym. This, of course, would dwindle with time. Making meals for two, and one extremely picky eater was new to me. Basically, there was no time to stop and think of fixing up our place to make it a home, not just sleep quarters and a messing area.
As I adapted, haphazardly and by trial and error rather than careful planning, the instinctual nature of any newlywed was kicking in. What's next after tying the ball and chain? Fix your place up. Make it your own. We're still working on it, piece by piece. Exhaustion and health bills keep us from the more focused approach to furnishing. These are some of the battles of chronic fatigue, swollen joints and limbs, inflammation headaches.
About 6 months in, my mother sensed -like moms do- that I was having a hard time keeping up. She bought me a simple bouquet of fresh, blooming, bright yellow daisies. I previously believed this flower was too simplistic. However, it brightened up my house like I hadn't imagined and I apologized to my new fabulous table center for being so short-sighted. When I was single, I was the unromantic type who said flowers are overrated. So soon after being bound by law to man, my sexy husband picked up my newfound value for the lifting effect of nature's little gifts (without my telling him, brownie points!) . The man who said he wasn't the type to buy flowers was buying roses to a woman who said claimed they were cheesy.
Now, I long for my table to decorated with something alive. I'm much more plant minded. This week I was buying veggies and fruits at our local produce shop across the street and saw they had a quaint purple gem I'd never seen before for $1.99! Hells yea.
Further now, it's been a really rough week health-wise. As a matter of fact, I was buying celery, parsley, and cucumber for an alkalanizing smoothie (I think I Sarah Palin'd that word and I'm not apologizing for it). I barely had the energy to chop and blend my concoction. My hands were and still are kind of rubbery with swelling. My feets feel like boats. Piles of mail mixed with Husband's projects seemed to be climbing higher on our table. The couch was collecting a Home Edition line of living accessories for my own planted butt. Ah, but this cute chrysanthemum could charm any home accumulating clutter.
See below the progression of inspiration from something humble sprung from the earth:
Progression No. 1
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="THE USUAL BAD WEEK SCENARIO"]
[/caption]Progression No. 2
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="WILD LIFE OXYGENATING THE ROOM, BECOMING MORE MOBILE"]
[/caption]
Progression No. 3
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="439" caption="FULL ON INSPIRED, ORGANIZATION ACHIEVED"]
[/caption]
I lie. It was not just pure beauty that led to my pro-activity. By No. 3 my Percocet had kicked in. Which I do not encourage even for Lupsters! I'm taking it temporarily for all the recent damage my frail organs went through and simply because otherwise I'll lose my day job. I'm not unaware of the dangers, not to mention potential addiction if usage is extended too long. Just setting up a disclaimer right now. However, I wrote a little song called "I love you Perky-cet".
Moving right along, building up my home is a slow process in my condition. Keeping neat and organized is hit or miss. When my husband is in town, he helps with the maintenance. Otherwise, it quickly amounts to a chaos that I'm learning to not be apologetic about anymore. It's not easy going to sleep knowing the dishes is working on hardening grit or wondering if I passed out before I closed all dangerous cat nooks. But everyone once in a sucky day, something awesome and wonderful completely distracts me from pain (No, Perky-cet is not awesome and wonderful) and I can power through achy knees and make my apartment a neat, symmetrical dream home.
*P.S. Sorry about the picture quality. I'll be upgrading to stealing Husband's camera soon.
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