No Rest For The Weary

Being a full-time caregiver is not my vocation. I've been able to take care of my wife's basic needs and the basic needs of the house, but I find it leaves no time for myself. For example, Saturday and Sunday were very nice days here, the first nice days in nearly two weeks of overcast, rain, and wind. But I didn't get out to play golf or even hit golf balls. There was laundry to do and groceries to buy and a lawn to cut. There were also the usual daily chores of dishes and feeding dogs and walking dogs and feeding my wife and I. Then, because she is still essentially housebound, I needed to entertain her, if only to sit with her and watch television.

My wife does her best to give me time and space. She accepts my need for quiet and to rest a bit between tasks. I know it frustrates her that I don't do everything she would do or do it when she would do it or do it the way she would do it. I try to be accommodating, but I guess I'm an inflexible old coot when it comes to some things. And I get frustrated with the constant up-and-down of waiting on her and the dogs. Sometimes, to my personal mortification, I have been snappish with her and complained about all the work I have to do, work that she does routinely I might add.

I'm such a wimp. I can't even take care of the one person who stands by me no matter what I do without complaining about how it affects me and my life. (It truly is all about me. Don't anybody ever tell me I'm unselfish or giving; I have proof to the contrary and witnesses.)