Even though I don’t particularly like or enjoy driving, there is something empowering about having a licence I can drive on again. For instance, my husband is rather under the weather right now, so I was able to offer to him to stay home… which is something he pretty much never gets to do by himself. It worked out that he was feeling well enough to go in and allow me to enjoy a return to my normally scheduled Monday… but to be able to make that offer, to be able to help take care of him? It’s rather bad-ass, if I do say so myself.
Maybe it feels more empowering of the moment because my mood is stable-to-elevated. Or maybe it’s just having that tiny bit of freedom; if I need to go, I can. As I’ve said before, buses and taxis aren’t options that make me comfortable due to not having precise control of my comings and goings, so while I am proud that I have managed a few solo taxi rides without having a break down, it’s much better to have the transport ball fully in my court where my poor panicbox brain needs it to be.
Whatever the case, I am grateful that I am still feeling decent. I’m grateful that I’ve enough spoons to help out around the house to spell my husband (but then, I’ve always had better luck finding spoons if someone needs me!). Which I guess makes sense — I suspect everyone does a bit better if they feel there’s some purpose in their life.
Anyhoos, back to enjoying my quiet time, and thinking, and whatnot.