Why I Can't Rest

I could have spent today in bed. I'm still fighting off a cold after a month and I've pulled a muscle coughing and Big was kind enough to tell me to stay in bed and rest. He brought me breakfast, he did some housework even.   I'm no good at it though. By 11am I'd exhausted my patience for reading, I'd all caught up on FB and Twitter and every stray hair had been meticulously removed from my eyebrows.
I was thinking of how the hoovering needed doing, how Small was probably still in his pj's, how many other tiny matters of no real consequence were happening contrary to my satisfaction and took the first available excuse to get up and dressed and start at least Supervising.

I can't stress enough that the offer to stay in bed while Big got up and did house stuff is rare to the point of extinction. One of the things that really gets my goat in an 'I love you forever and with all my soul but if you don't QUIT IT right now I may embed this pen in your eye' way is how Big is either apparently blind to the many daily chores that require doing or just assumes that they somehow don't apply to him. You can point them out to him and so long as you don't suggest more than one chore to be done in a day and aren't too worried which day in the next thirty or so he does it, it will be done. I can get really cross about that. Cross to the point where I work myself into a right state over being taken for granted and sob sob, how my health is affected.

But here's the sad truth.

I can't rest. I get bored, I get restless, I get really, really concerned about either a) that necessary chores won't be done or b) that they won't be done right. I may complain about Big and the housework, but it's worth pointing out that he puts up with a lot of complaining despite knowing that he's essentially going to lose whatever he does because I'm a bit of a control freak.
 I'm much happier pottering around getting stuff done a bit at a time, resting inbetween and directing Big to the odd task as I go. It's even likely that in some subconscious way I'm happier doing all these things while grumping that I have to. The mere fact that Big has so far resisted the temptation to whack me over the head with the Dyson and shove me under the patio is testament to the truth of the situation.

We're a team. this is how we roll.