Yesterday H & I drove to the north side of Chicago to this fabulous appliance store so we could price some appliances for the house. Today I sit and wonder how this trip, in a matter of seconds, turned into a top-speed suicide mission. How do these things continuously happen to me?
Part I: The Bombing Continues
It started when we, after purchasing at bargain prices, a fridge, stove, and dishwasher, stopped for a bite to eat. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, we had not been out together in forever b/c of H working on the house 24/7, and we seemed to be fairly smiley and happy and getting to know each other again when suddenly H proceeded to tell me we should probably extend the Motel 6 lease thru August. My chicken pita sandwich and tabouli salad suddenly lost its fresh taste. The sun was no longer shining, and I forgot what day it actually was. Huh? I tried to stay all calm and cool but instead I said something really stupid like, "Are you sure?". It all went to hell from there. By the time we got on the expressway thru Chicago, we were in the heat of battle. Mind you, I was driving and we were speeding along at about 75-80 mph with cars whizzing by us on both sides. Cars filled with happy people. Happy people who were on the way to some fun outing. Happy people who were not existing on elevated blood pressures and strong cocktails for the past 11 months. Fur really began to fly when H really blew his top and let out a blue streak of muck and meanness all the while slamming his fist against the passenger door. Do you ever get so pissed off that you are calm? That is where I was. If you have never been there, it is a rather erie feeling. Your ears kind of ring and about a thousand sirens go off in your head you tend to focus on something familiar like your hands, just so you know you are still here and alive. Your voice sounds about a mile away...it is kind of like you are watching yourself perform. The jist of it all was that he is very overwhelmed (ya think?) with this project and it is just not going as it should because the homeowner (me) is making it too difficult by not being supportive. (Meaning: I am not excited to set up camp in the Motel 6 for another month without saying negative things like "Are you sure?".) Has he been reading my blog??? I try to do my venting here as much as possible because I don't even know you people and, unless you saw a red car speeding down the freeway towards downtown Chicago with a guy slamming his fist against the door and a woman staring at her hands, you probably don't know me either. So it's safe. I thought. I am just too damn sarcastic for his serious and sensitive nature. The difference between us gets all amplified during times of stress and this is a time of stress. (Did you ever notice I tend to write in sentences that are like flow charts? Wierd.)
Part II: New Me
I put in my resignation to my horse-therapy volunteer group today so I will be around more to be supportive. I will not be sarcastic and negative. At least not in public. I will spend more time at the house so I am involved and interested.
I doubt anyone will see a new me and I doubt I am even the sole reason for his stress; however, I have become more aware of how my sarcasm in times of crisis affect him. After all, I do have to live with him. Most likely, I will continue to blog about TheHouseProjectFromHell, keep drinking like a madwoman when I am doing laundry, and I will still look forward to my exercise sessions with OZ and my free riding time. Summer will just fly! BTW, if I happen to post a picture of my hands, that is just code for how it's going!