On Saturday, I woke up around 10 am.
That's sort of ridiculous for me. I'm a habitual morning person. I tend to pop awake around 5 most days, ready to take on the world.
I had a big list of plans: Make sure Missy was in good shape, slip out to the gym for an hour, go grocery shop, work on my side project.
Except for the first part, none of that happened.
I just sort of lay there, exhausted.
And, for a smart person, I can be incredibly dense sometimes. I felt guilty about it. I eventually got a shower, and came downstairs to lay on the couch next to Missy, and just be near her and not do anything.
I lamented aloud about how useless I was or some such and my sister-in-law, MB gently, lovingly gave me the what-for. I'm paraphrasing here, but it was something like, "Uh, duh, Mako, you had like the worst day ever yesterday. You're allowed to do nothing."
She was right. So, I eased up and allowed myself permission to just take things slow.
About an hour later, the doorbell rang. It was our girl Rachel. And she had brought Peruvian rotisserie chicken. Like, a lot of it.
And she stayed over, and helped take care of Missy, and me, too.
I was so very, very grateful for it.