Domesticity

I'm not sure what has gotten into me lately but I have this overwhelming desire to nest.

I'm not pregnant. Thank God.

I don't know what it is. Perhaps I am replacing food with an irrational desire to clean, cook and decorate. Well, maybe not the decorate part because everyone knows that I am hopeless in that department but I'm wanting to host parties and just the other day, I watched a video which taught me how to properly crimp a pie crust.

I think it might be early onset dementia.

I'm wondering if this newfound domesticity is a byproduct of working from home. When I had to drag myself into an office everyday, the dust bunnies, unwashed laundry and furniture placement didn't register on my radar. Dinner every night was whatever could be cobbled together with the least amount of fuss because it was rare that I remember to pull something out of the freezer the night before. I coped, like most of us.

It's all different now.

I have recently purchased an apron. I wore it this weekend. Unselfconsciously. Dinner is a planned event every night. I find myself lingering in the storage aisles in the hardware store, fantasizing about drawer organizers and closet shelving. The butchers at Whole Foods recognize me now and we engage in discussions about braising briskets versus smoking them. It should be noted that I didn't even know what a brisket was three months ago.

This weird shift in my priorities is not a bad thing. It's just the tiniest bit disconcerting. I've been trying to identify what it is that I'm feeling lately because it's foreign and this morning, it dawned on me that I'm happy.

Without conditions.

Imagine that.