"Bored?!" I hear you cry. "Why, I'd love to have no responsibilities for 8 weeks!" Ah, but let's think this through, shall we? I had surgery on October 7th. Which means I'm in "leisure" mode for 8 weeks, until December 2nd.
- 8 weeks in which I cannot drive. The first 3 of which I'm not allowed to even ride in a car. Which means I'm stuck at home, with nothing better to do than contemplate my shortcomings as a housekeeper. (Ever had you mother-in-law mop your kitchen floor? On the very first day of babysitting you? Ye gods...) You sit in a chair, unable to focus on the simply riveting book on cottage gardening the husband got you, and see all these items that need attention. Tragically, you can't do anything about it, because you have.....
- 8 weeks of not lifting anything heavier than 3lbs. See some monster dust bunnies on top of the bookshelf? Forget about tidying them up before the m-i-l sees them; the step ladder weights about 10lbs. Care to pet the cat in all your leisure time? Mitzi weights about 8lbs. She'll need to come to you. (and, since she's a cat, odds are she'll just flop down with her back to you as you attempt to coax her into your lap) Want to look something up in your Random House Dictionary of the English Language, The Unabridged Edition? Ask your beck-and-call boy to fetch it down for you when he gets home from work; he'll get right on that.
- 8 weeks of no chores. Need some clean undies? Talk to the temp housewife; he'll try to get to it this week. Feeling the snap of Fall in the air and have a craving for your Baked Potato Soup? Ask the temp cook; sorry, he has something else planned for dinner tonight. I'm totally at the mercy of my husband for meals, a clean pair of socks and whether or not my potted roses survive. He's been more than sweet, but remember, we still have 7 weeks to go.
Basically, this is a preview of the indignities of an infirm old age, children. You can't do anything for yourself, you must wait for family members to help you out. You sit around listening to the crickets chirp while waiting for somebody, anybody, to have time for you. If ever there was a better incentive to get in better shape as the years creep on, I can't imagine it. And if you know someone in this situation; please, rack up some good karma, and stop by with the Scrabble board. Soon.