My poor husband bore the brunt of my isolation. I told him at the beginning of June I was going to need him to take care of me. He came home from work, made me dinner, delivered it to my desk, and buried himself in the TV room or his office for the rest of the evening. Praise be for pizza delivery. I think we had it more this past month than the past twelve combined.
This week I performed in a community choir concert, went to a 4th of July celebration with about 70 other people at a friend's house, went out for dinner and a movie with my hubby, played in the orchestra for a kid's dinner theatre production, and cooked like the Apocalypse is coming tomorrow. This morning I'm heading out for our Summer four-week study at PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel).
(My PWOC sisters gather to watch me sign my first contract with Barbour Publishing, April, 2014.)
All of this was exactly what I needed. I'm not a huge socialite; I much prefer lunch with one or two other people as opposed to a crowd. However, after such an extended period of isolation, it was good to get back to life in the real world.
Until next time,