Monday, August 27, 2012

Housework isn't What it Used to Be

Dear John,
 
I really do have to start sleeping again. Last night I slept for 1 hour, was up with fibro while a front came through, slept for 3 hours, was up with the dog and the girls, and slept for one more hour. I can't remember being this tired in years. I'm off tomorrow - I plan to sleep in. Then I'm going to be domestic the rest of the day.
 
Being domestic isn't what it used to be. Cooking, cleaning, and keeping the house had meaning when I did it for you. Now I do it because it has to be done - and I'm anal - but there's no warmth to it. It isn't an expression of love anymore, which is what it was for me from the beginning of our marriage. And when I wasn't working, it was also an expression of gratitude to you. I kept the house for you, decorated it so you'd like it, cooked for you, did laundry for you. Now I do it - but for duty, not love.
 
Now, if I don't cook, I can have a PBJ or bowl of oatmeal and it doesn't matter. The underside of the toilet lid is clean already, and there is so little laundry that I always run small loads unless it's time to do sheets and towels. I like having the house neat and clean, but there's something missing - meaning, motivation, emotion - and lots more that I don't have nailed down yet. Deep down, there's a fear of falling into chaos without you to be - accountable to, looked after by, grounded by, and more things. I cling to household routines because I'm afraid that, without them, I'll go floating off away from reality.
 
But I do have people and responsibilities in my life, and that is good and necessary. Trash pick-up is tomorrow morning, so I gathered up the trash and took the can to the street. Church is on Sundays. I have to go to work and pay the bills and pick up the mail and buy groceries. The dog has to be fed and let out. Jen would notice if I disappeared. So reality is here, just not with the emotional content it had with you. I guess I do these things, but I don't care anymore. (with Phil Collins in the background) It's all very odd.
 
Well, enough dumping on you. Suffice it to say that nothing is the same without you. I love you, I miss you. Come for me soon!
Joan.

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