mondays

W,  as most of you know I call her in print, is at her place today and tonight. I am here at mine.

Our adobe and bistro, as they are affectionately known, are to each our own. I've never written about them as such till just now; 'to each our own'. Hmm...

It sounds quite separate. Distant. Cold.

So far from the truth. 

I love Mondays. It's a day apart after the weekends. I go back to book work, organizing the house, food prep work, contemplation. She goes back to desk work, artsy work, house/yard work, contemplation. The same but not.

Mondays remind me of how much I miss her. How much I love her. How much I wish she were here but glad she isn't. 

There it is again. Distant. Cold.

Makes me laugh. 

We are so close. Bare inches apart most often. Entangled. Tight in our thoughts. Mondays let us come up for air. I can think clearer in the few hours alone. So can she. Much, so much good comes from the brief time apart.

Mondays, by their end though, make me long for Tuesdays.