Ah yes, the life of a married woman. The first 10 days were spent blissfully sheltered from the world. The wedding was a resounding success and I plunged headfirst towards domesticity.
I clean. I cook. I wash dishes. I even do the laundry. There is something quaint about the work that I’m doing. It feels a little bit like I’m playing house. Although my hands are so dry, it’s a small price to pay, I say.
I’m starting to find my rhythm. I wake up about the same time my husband does. While he gets ready for work, I make breakfast. After we eat, he heads to the office and I do housekeeping stuff. For lunch, my husband either goes home to eat or I bring him food to the office (they perks of living in the area), and then I’m off to work. After office hours, we run errands, go on a date, or go home for dinner.
Sounds boring now that I think about it but it is, quite frankly, undiscovered terrain for me.