Happy Friday

"I have to be alone very often. 

I’d be quite happy 

if I spent from Saturday night 

until Monday morning 

alone in my apartment. 

That’s how I refuel.”

- Audrey Hepburn

photo found on Pinterest

Recovering

I’m hibernating.

For the past few weekends, 

I’ve veered away from most social activities, 

I’ve passed on going-out opportunities, 

in favor of staying home. 

Which is not to say, 

I haven’t been busy on these weekends.

I’ve done laundry, 

I’ve cleaned and tidied my apartment.

I’ve had wonderful meals with the boy 

and we’ve ran errands.

I’ve started into my never-ending pile of magazines, 

we’ve watched movies. 

I started a new workout routine

 and dived into organizational goals I have for myself.

But overall, I’ve been pretty anti-social. 

I’ve chosen my couch over bars and parties. 

And it has been wonderful.

My work weeks tend to be busy, 

tend to be scheduled to the brim. 

And I was started to break, 

to feel like I wasn’t on solid ground any more. 

After the holidays, 

I was worn out.

The new year is for fresh starts, 

and I wanted, 

I needed, 

to make one, 

to really take care of me. 

I don’t currently even have much desire to go out on a Friday night, 

but I know that I will again, 

when there is actually something worthwhile,

 to get dressed up for and head out on the town. 

So until then, 

my weekends are for recovery, 

recovery from my hectic work week, 

recovery from too little sleep, 

from too much stimulation and stress, 

my weekends are for physical, mental and emotional recovery.

With this recovery time, 

I’m hoping my creativity will grow, will renew, 

will inspire me for future projects and new ideas.

So on that note, 

I’m off to make a good dinner, 

and enjoy my favorite tv shows, 

as the boy is out of town tonight

and the remote and DVR is all mine.

And I don’t feel one bit guilty about it, 

because it’s going to be great.

I’ll let you know when I’m ready to come out of my hibernation.

It’s bound to be for something pretty fabulous.

photo courtesy of Glitter Guide’s Pinterest

Just ask

Females have ruled the larger percentage of my interactions 

for most of my life.

I have a sister and between her, myself and my Mom, 

my poor Dad was overruled.

I lived with all women in college,

and while always having male friends, 

my female relationships were the most prevalent. 

And like most female friendships, 

we understand each other, 

we can read each other 

with simply a look, 

an energy, 

a tone of voice.

I know when something is wrong

when something is upsetting my best friend, 

or my Mom,

without a word even being spoken.

But as the boy and I have embarked on cohabiting

the past few months

I’ve learned an important fact:

men aren’t mind readers. 

Through trial and error

I’ve learned that I can’t expect 

all my thoughts and concerns 

to be understood,

just simply by the way I look as I walk in the door

and settle on the couch, 

soaking in my worries and desires.

My Mom lived with me for over 18 years; 

why should I expect someone else to be able to know 

that I’m upset about something trivial 

(nothing to wear) 

or craving something random 

(ice cream), 

when it appears that I’m just in a weird, stubborn mood.

The boy knows me deeper 

than I realize most of the time, 

and he knows when I’m stressed out, 

but not what about, 

if I don’t verbalize it.

As the boy gently reminded me last night, 

expressed out of what I imagine can be very frustrating, 

all that is needed, 

is words.

"Just ask."

"Just tell me all."

"Empty yourself out,

you’ll feel better, 

and I’ll feel better knowing."

Men are many things

but they aren’t mind readers, 

and that’s ok.

And on that note...

I let him know that I’d really like his help 

with changing the lightbulbs in the bathroom this weekend.

iPhoto photo taken while hiking in Newport