I got home from work and my hubby persuaded me to walk over to the gym at our apartment complex (I'm a workout failure, so having someone else to suggest/encourage/force me to go is necessary). Then we came home and I started on some laundry and cooking dinner. We have an overnight meeting tomorrow night, so I also needed to make some coffee cake to contribute to the breakfast menu at the meeting. Then it was laundry, laundry, laundry until about 10. At that point I collapsed on the couch, spat out some quick design tweaks for a project for my aunt, and decided to show my face around here again. So much for a relaxing evening.
But it's been so much more relaxed than it could have been. That dear man that married me unloaded, reloaded, and ran the dishwasher for me tonight. He also cleaned up after dinner, and he built me a fire.
It's the fire that's my favorite.
Maybe it really was a more relaxing evening than I first thought...