Last week, in an effort to bring some life back into my home, a friend let me scavenge her garden for plants that wouldn’t make it through the winter. I thought if I brought them inside we could take care of each other until spring. I had dirt and cuttings all over my kitchen table, before I realized that I really only have a couple of windows with enough space in front of them for plants.
My vision of having something growing in every room, cleaning the air and adding life to our space, turned out to be just two clusters of potted plants – one in the kitchen, the other in my bedroom.
Next, I started painting my living room – a beautiful sea blue on one wall and a much cleaner/brighter white on the others. I got about 95% of the accent wall painted before I was forced to stop, because I couldn’t reach the top. Stupid vaulted ceiling. The white walls are partially prepped with hole filler, but nothing more. My motivation went to take a nap and never returned.
So, today, as I stepped over the painting supplies still strewn about the living room, looking for something more manageable I could accomplish, I decided it was a good time to enroll in a new healthcare plan. About a third of the way through the online forms, I got stuck because there aren’t any boxes for “married, but in limbo.” I will be divorced soon enough, but in order to mark “divorced” I need to provide an exact date. I also need to know if we’ll file our taxes jointly and which of us gets to claim the children. Every year since I started freelancing, my income is next to impossible to estimate, let alone prove. Stupid vaulted health exchange.
And that’s a day in the life of Leah right now. I’m trying my best to make something of it, but so many things seem just out of reach. I know, I’m going to have to ask for help to reach the ceiling. And if I want a plant in every room, I’ll just need to get creative. As for “married, but in limbo,” I’d rather climb that ladder and try to reach that unreachable apex every day for a year instead of remaining married, but not married; filing jointly, but not living jointly. But I will endure. Stupid vaulted life.