three (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
threeplusfire) wrote2004-02-25 02:21 pm
threeplusfire) wrote2004-02-25 02:21 pm
in sickness and health
It is very grey, as every Ash Wednesday has been these last few years.
I worked out this morning and scrubbed myself down with my sugar mixture. I feel very soft now, and smell faintly of spices. This is nice.
For the past couple months I have noticed that while I write more on Livejournal, I have become much more selctive about what I do write. There was a time when every scrap of it was open and exposed. Now I am more reticent about the things I consider private, I am more conscious of the fact that this is read by so many people.
I've decided that some things in my life are just off limits to everyone. It's part of that selfish, arrogant streak in me. Maybe I just fear being told how banal and ordinary it all really is in the end. Maybe it's being married and being so conscious of having a different life than I did before.
How funny that of all the Metro crowd, the two people who seemed least ideologically suited to marriage and families have done exactly that.
Alan is sick, and I feel utterly helpless to do anything about it. Sinuses, allergies, a head cold. There's not much you can do but lock yourself in the bathroom and hope the steam clears your lungs enough to breathe, or that the medicine helps dry it out. I'm lucky, I suppose, that I don't get ill often. I can count my major illnesses on one hand, and while the cedars and pollens sometimes make my nose drip it's never serious. At least he's been sleeping for some time now.
It's a strange thing to love someone so much that you wake up in the night to check their breathing.
I worked out this morning and scrubbed myself down with my sugar mixture. I feel very soft now, and smell faintly of spices. This is nice.
For the past couple months I have noticed that while I write more on Livejournal, I have become much more selctive about what I do write. There was a time when every scrap of it was open and exposed. Now I am more reticent about the things I consider private, I am more conscious of the fact that this is read by so many people.
I've decided that some things in my life are just off limits to everyone. It's part of that selfish, arrogant streak in me. Maybe I just fear being told how banal and ordinary it all really is in the end. Maybe it's being married and being so conscious of having a different life than I did before.
How funny that of all the Metro crowd, the two people who seemed least ideologically suited to marriage and families have done exactly that.
Alan is sick, and I feel utterly helpless to do anything about it. Sinuses, allergies, a head cold. There's not much you can do but lock yourself in the bathroom and hope the steam clears your lungs enough to breathe, or that the medicine helps dry it out. I'm lucky, I suppose, that I don't get ill often. I can count my major illnesses on one hand, and while the cedars and pollens sometimes make my nose drip it's never serious. At least he's been sleeping for some time now.
It's a strange thing to love someone so much that you wake up in the night to check their breathing.
no subject
I am glad.