Sometimes, life takes a little while to sink in.

My husband has been back to working each day, in an office, outside our home, for over a year and a half. It sucks.

See, when we relocated to glorious Santa Barbara five years ago, we both worked from home. We were office mates, lunch buddies, and spent every day together. For three years. It was AWESOME.

But I was worried I wouldn't meet new people, or make any friends, so I joined Meetup.com, and went out to be social most evenings. Now my schedule generally follows that initial pattern. Most evenings I have extra-curriculars...and I hate it. I have turned Me into a flake, because I schedule and then don't go to things. I make excuses about being tired, needing to stay home and cook dinner, or blame it on the dog (who clearly needs a walk with BOTH me and my husband).

But that's not the real story. Thanks to my dreaming mind, I finally understand that I'm extremely resentful of my own tendency to schedule being away from home most evenings.

Like most married people who work, evenings are now the prime hubby-time. We have to talk, laugh, play games, and get things done during evenings and weekends. And if I'm not home, I get no time with him. And I feel disconnected and sad.

So if I have a New Year's Resolution, it is to drag my husband out with me every night.

Psych! No, that's not it. It is actually to try to find balance between home-social and world-social.

As an extrovert, I get plenty of "alone time" (WTF is that?!?) all day as I work alone. But my husband still needs his alone-time on evenings and weekends, and sometimes we disagree about how much he needs. Well. Sometimes how much he needs feels personal, though it isn't. Working on that too, always and forever. 

So I have to maintain some level of world-social, because that translates to his alone-time. And, of course, I don't want to blow off all of the cool friends I have made, give up the exciting groups I'm in, and miss out on the joyful adventures I have become accustomed to.

What's the answer? 

It's going to blow your mind.

Meal Planning.

Seriously. Yup.

Wait, what does the fact that I don't like anything about cooking have to do with this?

Not liking cooking, I suck at it. Prep, doing, clean up, every part of cooking is awful...except the eating. 

Going out in the evenings often involves yummy dinners out. But eating out contributes to less healthy food, portion challenges, and weight gain. As does being sad and eating emotions.

So sitting down each week to plan meals and inform the grocery-shopper (hubby) what is needed, is also a perfect time to plan how many nights will be in versus out.  Deciding who cooks what when, also informs whether ins and outs, social and solo, activity and rest are in balance. 

So there it is: my case for how and why meal planning is the 2016 resolution that will help me put my social calendar back in balance.

Wish me luck!

Day 2 and Places 2, 3 & 4: Harrods, Knightsbridge, Hyde Park

Last night there were naps, then midnight snacks, and an accidental alarm for regular non-vacation-days at 7:30AM. GAH. Then I burned the pretty almond croissants trying to figure out the toaster oven. Sad breakfast.

Still, we tried to handle our jet lag with "Ooooh!-Ahhhhhs!" and forced marches. First, a bit of a Rick Steves' walking tour that began on the Westminster bridge and encompassed all the sights of Whitehall until we were so hungry we could walk no more.

Then off on the pilgrimage, to Place #2 where,  "The flying saucer in which Ford Prefect had stowed away had stunned the world. Finally there was no doubt, no possibility of mistake...It had come down with a wonderful disregard for anything beneath it and crushed a large area of some of the most expensive real estate in the world, including much of Harrods."

Don't worry, it has been perfectly restored:

We walked all the way to Harrods from Trafalgar Square, some of that along Hyde park, where, "for a total of three days and nights the giant silver robot stood in stunned amazement straddling the remains of Knightsbridge, swaying slightly and trying to work out a number of things." 

As a result, there are still particularly out of place looking buildings in Knightsbridge, Place #3, that may in fact be repurposed bits of giant straddling robots. "Bits" that even the people of England "voted number eight in a Country Life poll of Britain's "top ten eyesores"" and wish would go away (http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hyde_Park_Barracks,_London) because it just spoils the fact that "Hyde Park is stunning. Everything about it is stunning except for the rubbish on Monday mornings."

In early March, Place #4 was windy and cold. Our brisk walking allowed us to ignore any litter and instead focus on the budding crocuses, daffodils, and this:

The memorial was created for Albert, Prince Consort, in the spirit of appreciating all great men who serve. For me, it was a quiet moment to reflect on the burial of Leonard Nimoy, and all the great people who have seen their last sunset, and will never again have an opportunity to serve their fellow humans in small ways, let alone be beloved of a queen and gilded for posterity.

And with that, the memorial in Hyde Park was a reminder that whether to entertain, teach, or govern; whether to make art, be a patron, or simply listen, we can all find ways to serve ourselves and our fellow humans. 

Even if it's silly, get out and find your way. It's Monday. Pretend you're covered in gold and the glow of a setting sun. Go make the world a bit better.