I don't feel well AT ALL but I'm at work anyway. Hardly anyone is here. I'm sitting at my desk munching on dry crackers and homeopathic remedies and thinking that I need something to drink but I have no energy to head down the hall to the kitchen to get anything.
I'm being a big baby. I want to lie down or cry. My body hurts and I am so very tired.
I want to go home but I have to be here for a call this afternoon. I also still have Christmas shopping to finish for my girls. Ugh.
At least I'll go home to a quiet house. The ex has the kids til Christmas eve night. I'll spend that evening at his place with his family and Santa will come to visit and hand deliver presents to my daughters as he does every year. The ex-in-laws will be there with all sorts of gourmet desserts and sweet attentive hugs and my ex will cook up a fabulous dinner for all of us. Then I will take our daughters home with me and the ex will join us Christmas morning to open gifts and have a nice big breakfast.
I am thankful.
A text just came through from Gentleman Jack after I told him that I feel like poo.
"Baby, u remember how pretty it was flyin above the clouds when we were about 2 land in Dallas, and how nasty it was on the ground? U have 2 know that the clouds will break! You WILL feel better soon!"
I love my man.
I love all of the supportive things he does for me. Sending me his healing clarity through the text messages on my phone. I told him that what he was doing was sending me Reiki but he said he calls it "love".
I am so thankful for all of his little ways...
He's bummed because he wants to get me a really expensive new television for Christmas but can't buy it yet. I don't need a present from him when he gives me so much presence already!
Doesn't he realize that every day with him is like Christmas?
When I drive to his house, he meets me in the driveway to carry in my bag.
Once inside and greeted with lots of loving hugs, he demands that I get into comfortable clothing so that I can sit on the couch and do nothing.
Not. A. Damn. Thing.
He cooks dinner and places it on a tray in front of me. He pours me a glass of wine and, after eating, he will take a seat next to me where he will rub my feet, cover me with a blanket or snuggle up close to me.
When we go to bed, he places a glass or bottle of water next to my side of the bed should I get thirsty during the night.
When I take a shower, he will join me, soaping up his hands to clean me. He will stand with his back against the cold tile so that I don't get a chill. Then he will wrap me up in a towel.
I usually cook breakfast for he and his boys. They're always appreciative of the feminine energy in the house.
Before we head out for the day, he will ask me if I like what he is wearing. The man can wear a t-shirt... whew boy... and I'm drooling so it doesn't matter to me. But he wants me to be proud to be seen with him.
When we're out together, he's holding my hand or touching me in some way. He likes to run his hands over my hair and occasionally pull me closer for a kiss.
He looks at me and smiles.
He touches me with love.
He concerns himself with my comfort and my pleasure.
Of course, I do the same for him. We speak the same language. We adore one another.
I laughed over the weekend that his house is like my vacation home in Louisiana. I feel comfortable there and I can be lazy - something I never do at home.
I wish I was there now, snuggled up with his warmth on his comfy bed, all tucked in safe and sound and his arms wrapped around me.
I love my man.
Though my body hurts and I have no emotional, mental or physical energy, above all of this nastiness, the sun is shining.
I am thankful.