Kate returned from Sweden two days ago.
(I know I made a quasi-promise to post every day while she was gone, but I found myself the accidental participant in a medical experiment that required me to do nothing harder than take a few pills, try with all physical, moral, and spiritual resources applied, NOT to take some other pill, and the observe my behavior carefully to ensure I wouldn't throw myself off the roof. I am out of the woods. Thank you for your concern).
So Kate came home a few days ago; in fact, she came home twenty four hours before I expected her, so I was unprepared with the flowers and wine and fine foods I had planned to have ready for her. She did not seem to notice.
I thought we could use an outing, so I suggested we got to Lord & Taylor and buy work out clothes. Fun, healthy activity, no?
She did not want to go. But if it's work out clothes I want, why not just go through the boxes of old clothing that belonged to her husband and wear his? He doesn't need them anymore. And I need something to sweat in. Fashionable considerations unimportant. So, I, uh, have a box of work out clothing recently belonging to a man who used to live two floors down and who is now dead.
Please someone tell me how to feel about this.
ps Next post I will explain the medical experiment in full detail.