Our house looks like there’s been a tornado inside it because there are things everywhere. That means that on this day when there’s not been that much to do with the upcoming wedding, we’ve had to tidy the house. Which made me lament that mum didn’t live closer to us.
Oh, don’t misunderstand me. I’m not saying that mum would ever have consented to clean up our mess – but the fact is that with mum nearby there would have been greater incentive to tidy than to leave it as it is. My mum would have gone mental about it, and it would have taken a lot more effort to suffer through that instead of just clinching my teeth.
Mark also abandoned me in the middle of the cleaning because today is his gym day, so suddenly he flopped his big gym bag on the floor in the hallway, said good-bye, and left me to clean on my own. The bastard. I want a divorce, and we’re not even married yet.
I considered trying to find Swedish blood pudding somewhere and make that for dinner because since I served it once in Sweden he just shudder when I mention the dish. Alas, I can’t drive, and the only place I can think of that might have it is IKEA. We just had to settle for rice and sausages with some store-bought sauce. Welcome to our student lives. At least we don’t eat macaroni or spaghetti with only ketchup.
Our ten-day honey moon is going to be spent in Cape Town, and I’ve been reviewing what things you can do there. From what I read, though, Cape Town is a pretty dangerous place so maybe it wasn’t so good to decide to go there. On the other hand, I doubt that the touristy places are so bad, and since it will be my first time ever to Africa, I’m really looking forward to it.
Elsewhere on the net I was reminded how much I struggled against being in love during the first week(s) of Mark’s and my relationship. I tried so much to be cool, hipsterish, relaxed and assured – and tried to determine if I was just infatuated, or just horny after sixteen years of abstinence, or if I was actually falling in love.
Being a chronic over-thinker, I spent a lot of time doing that. Now it makes me laugh a bit because it was so silly, and it feels like I was trying to grasp a ward to prevent me from falling. And what if I had been successful? I can imagine all the whining posts here on the blog about never meeting someone – and I would never have known what I know now.
And isn’t that a warning to everyone to not over-think? Could that not be an omen? If you try to be adult, cool, distant and detached – aren’t you just missing out on something that could be quite good? Like, trying to convince yourself you’re not in love, and then pushing the person that would be the love of your life away because that person just can’t handle the drama?
And if I had “succeeded” back then, I wouldn’t now look to my left and see the back of Mark as he snores and as I write this, and I wouldn’t have Watson trying to scratch himself into the room through the closed bedroom door, moaning to be let in.
Over-thinking might not always pay off, right? Sometimes it’s an obstacle, a barrier. Sometimes you just have to let go and fall.