Today lived up to the “Manic Monday’ moniker. It was crazy, confusing, and on occasion as frustrating as all get-out.
And there was an episode of get-out today. I have a feeling work is going to be somewhat more complicated for a while.
C’est la vie.
A little bit of fiction on a Manic Monday.
Clarice folded the last towel and sighed. She clutched the stack of towels to her chest and made a slow circle checking the kitchen, the gathering room, the first bath, and the entry. John returned from the master suite they had made their own for the past few days. He smiled. She met him halfway and pushed the towels into his chest.
Make yourself useful, she said and winked.
He took the towels and turned toward the master bath, chuckling. Clarice ducked into the bedroom behind him.
They had listened to the surf, held hands, enjoyed quiet dinners, made love by candlelight, read, napped, soaked in the spa, biked in the park, and lived freely for the past week.
John returned to the bedroom to find Clarice packing the last of their clothing. He slipped his arms around her and leaned his chin on her shoulder.
I love you, he said.
I love you John.
We needed this, he said.
Yes. Clarice breathed deeply.
Will we make it? she asked. We have to face the chaos soon. And her thoughts skimmed over work, parenting, parental care-giving and obligations numerous and intimidating.
Life is turbulent, confusing. We have to schedule a breather every now and then. He spoke with conviction. We have to be diligent in tending to ourselves.
No divorce John?
No Clarice. Not now, not ever.