By "we" I mean "I." I am adjusting. You'd think my fabulous husband has always lived here, he's adjusted so well.
Me? Not so much. I've been sick. A lot. Am feeling better, somewhat. Of course, I woke up this morning and my throat kind of hurt. I also thought the kitchen smelled like garlic. That's not exactly a sickness, but at 7 a.m., it might as well be. I'm pretty sure FH had Special K for breakfast like usual, so I don't know where the garlic smell came from. Pretty gross.
I don't sleep well. Husband, of course, sleeps like the dead. Everything wakes me up. When he rolls over. When he gets up to go to the bathroom. (I thought getting up to pee was just an old/pregnant people thing. I was wrong. That, or my husband is pregnant. Unlikely.) When he breathes.
Thus far, there's no actual snoring. Just breathing. But loud breathing. Deviated septum breathing. That reminds me of a story.
"Every time I woke up during the night," he said the other day, "your hand was on my chest."
Now, this is not how the Cathinator sleeps. No, she often sleeps with her hands under her cheek, or her arm under her pillow. Not with her hand on her husband's chest.
But that is how she wakes him up when his breathing annoys her! Her hand was on his chest every time he woke up because she had put it there with the express purpose of waking him up. His story was a lot less cute and romantic after that realization.
Still, it's been great fun. We rarely have a day off in common--except Sunday, which is always full of church and napping--so I took Monday off so we could have our New Year's Day (observed). It's so nice to wake up on your own terms, even if you're still waking up at eight. Stupid alarm clocks, bossing me around all the time. We went and got his eyes checked and picked out new glasses. I know he needs glasses, but I'm not sure how I feel about this. I dated and married a man who didn't wear glasses. This is misrepresentation! Bait and switch!
But don't worry, I like his new frames, and I'm sure I'll get used to them. Jolly well have to, I suppose. He also got prescription sunglasses, which hopefully he will be more diligent about hanging on to than his regular ones, which he routinely loses for weeks at a time. I, meanwhile, buy a pair of sunglasses for $15 and wear them for six years before losing them in an unfortunate river accident. (I was more upset about the sunglasses than the gaping head wound that was pouring blood. I'm that attached to my cheap-o sunglasses.)
We went out to lunch, we went shopping (honestly, who builds an open air mall in Salt Lake City?!), we went to the movies. I cried at least four times in "The Princess and the Frog." It was very cute. Way better than the last hand-drawn Disney movie, "Home on the Range." That one was...unremarkable. I didn't find the songs catchy enough to be singing on the way out of the theater, and I think small children might be frightened of their shadows after seeing it, but overall, it was good.
It was a delightful time, and it really made going back to work painful. I suppose it wouldn't be as fun if that's all we ever did, right? We'd get bored and want real work?
In related news, I haven't worked a full week since before the wedding. And I don't intend to start. I'm taking next Friday off and have the 18th off for the holiday. The last week of January is going to be painfully long, I think.
Speaking of painfully long, I'm so over winter.