An aggravated assault criminal’s portrait lingers on the screen as easy jazz music rejoices his crimes. “This is a wanted criminal. Any information that leads to his capture will be rewarded.” And I wonder why all my friends have switched to DVR TV and downloading episodes of sitcoms off the Internet. Still, there’s a comfort in basic cable and late night commercials.
Mind numbing programming and waiting for my husband to get home. Feeling guilty about little things I promised him I’d do today but did not. Yet, a heap of seemingly meaningless tasks have culminated into certain victories.
I e-mailed 47 individuals. I chatted with 15. I texted 9. I actually talked to 4 via phone. I met 1 person in person to personally talk things through. And all of these collisions of interaction are actually building into future enterprises and I wonder hopefully about what it will all do. I’m a juggler. A conductor. He doesn’t understand. He thinks I’m lazy.
The dishes are done. Or waiting to be done, in the dishwasher with no soap. Going to the grocery store is on the list of things I neglected. The random little things I need have piled up—body wash, conditioner, socks, dish washing liquid, half and half, and Sweet & Low. And if we’re confessing, I need to shave too.
It’s hard to have someone to answer to. He won’t notice that I rearranged our shelves intricately. Or that I cleaned out my cell phone contacts list. He can’t see the magazine clippings I’ve organized or why I do these things.
On busy days I do too much and am in and out and gone. I’m unavailable. On days like today I am here and stuck but productive in my own way.
Sweet sushi roll aftertaste echoing under my tongue from my afternoon meal. I brush my teeth real good. When he walks through the door, I tell him how hard I worked out and I grab the groceries out of his hands to escort him to the couch. I laugh and tell him all the funny things that the cat did today. He looks tired, but smiles anyway.
I was worried for nothing.
Amanda Hixson 2011