Procrastination should be punishable by death. Sound rather drastic doesn’t it? But, hear me out and consider this in a marriage; procrastination can contribute to a slow death of the relationship. Why do we torture each other by putting off things? Refusing to do a simple thing that could be done in 5 minutes.
In my opinion, it causes a petit mort. The little death, a popular French euphemism for orgasm but in this case the meaning is not so fun. It’s another straw on the camel’s back. I had one of those moments not five minutes ago. I went to Mr. Husband’s office door to tell him that I would like to go see that movie The Hunger Games. Unfortunately I committed the grievous crime of tapping his office door and the door knob bumped against the wall, again. So he grumbled and rolled his eyes. He was pissed off that I might damage his stupid wall. What he may not realize is that his is perilously close to witnessing my foot going through that very same wall or up his a@@. But, now, now, I’m speaking from my anger place.
My response was “will you please get a doorstop or something to fix this &^%#^&*@ door.” OK, I’m not known for my tact or patience, but said door has been without a doorstop since his office was painted over 6 months ago. His response was that he’s going to work out and after that he may or may not do something about the door. Translation (what I heard) = Bug off! I have no intention of ever doing anything about this door because it’s not important to ME. I-don’t-care if it’s important to you.
What I wanted was a date with the Hubman. What I got was a kick in the nads. I left his office without the movie date I wanted. Also with hurt feelings, tentative plans to go on walkabout for a year and a half, and a firm resolve to never speak to him or darken his office door again in my natural life. An overreaction? Yes, I guess so, but a prime example of how a constant repeated little hurt can fester and turn into a huge, bleeding, gut wrenching hurt.
This is, in theory, a ridiculous reaction to a minor transgression but it is a perfect example of how couples hurt each other by ignoring what is important to the other person but not to them. Even Alice in Wonderland had this particular relationship problem. Alice was thirsty so the Red Queen gave her a dry biscuit. A classic example of “this is what I’m willing to give, so here take it, and never mind that it’s not what you want or need.” Unsaid is that the person on the receiving end should be glad that they received it, cuz it’s the thought that counts, right? WRONG!!!!!!! That is only valid when giving a Christmas present to someone you don’t know well. It is not valid in relationships where both participants claim to know and love each other.
All of bazillions of relationship books out tell us that if we aren’t getting what we want it is because we are not asking for what we want, or asking it the right way, or burying a dead cat in the graveyard at midnight while burning purple candles and dancing the nude hoochie coochie. What do you do when you ask over and over, and the person deems your request not only not important enough to grant, but not even important enough to remember? The result being that every time said request is made it’s like it never happened before. Welcome to the marital Twilight Zone from hell.
In a marriage, the old saying “actions speak louder than words” is the lifeblood or the downfall of a loving happy relationship. One partner can tell the other “I love you with all my heart, more than life itself, my love can leap tall mountains in a single bound.” Unfortunately, this degenerates into blather and falls on deaf ears if there are no actions that prove it. If one partner feels like they are on the 2nd page of a very long to do list they feel unloved and unimportant. No matter how many time the other person tells them they are loved and important. You can’t just talk the talk. You gotta walk the walk. Listening to what your partner wants and then taking actions on that specific want is how you walk the walk.
Yesterday, Mr. Husband and I went shopping and bought a tent and 2 sleeping bags. On the way home we stopped at the bookstore and bought travel books. Then home, lunch and a good hearty argument for desert that lasted a while. Evidently, we had some festering issues to air out. Washing everything in a gallon or two of tears always works for me.
We eventually became exhausted from this silly endeavor and collapsed in bed, rested for a while and squabbled some more. The upshot of all this is that he “worries” when I’m gone. I’m going to interpret this as he will miss me. I used to view it as him thinking that I can’t be trusted to navigate my way out of a soggy paper bag without some sort of calamity
To cheer ourselves up we went out to dinner just the 2 of us, no grandson. He’s 23 after all and should be able to feed himself on occasion. Our destination – a fabulous seafood restaurant, Vincent’s, here in Big D. It’s where we went on our first date. So romantical. We get a good laugh because we are always the youngest couple there. Youngsters just don’t appreciate good seafood and there is no TV in there. After wards we went to a sports-camping type store and bought a book of road maps.
Unfortunately, right before I went to bed I developed an extreme case of self-doubt and the starting singing the “who do you think you are” blues. It’s a long trip, I will have a melt down. I’m not up to this, what was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking at all. Yada Yada.
All this self talk invaded my dreams and turned it into the nightmare, wild ride, merry-go-round from hell. There were monsters on the ceiling, monsters under the bed, monsters knocking things off my nightstand. I got lost in Tennessee, took a wrong turn, and ended up in Libya. Tarried too long in a greasy spoon and when we came out the truck was up on blocks with all 4 tires gone. In a storm our tent collapsed with us in it, turning us into a burrito that rolled down a hill into a raging stream and we were washed out to sea. Never mind that our tent was 400 miles inland at the time. Anything can happen in a dream.
All of this nonsense exhausted me so much that I ended up sleeping until 10:00 am. That’s really late for me. I’m usually up with the birds.
I realize once again that I am human and just as prone to fears as the next person. I just have to refuse to let them paralyze me and stop me from doing what I dream of doing. Tally Ho!
The last few days have been a little rough. Felt like I went white water rafting without the raft. Been wrapped up in how I was going to handle this blessed but stressful retirement event. Didn’t take into account how Mr. Husband was handling it. Turns out the answer is not well. When he gets stressed he tends to morphs into his father and start pontificating from his throne (e-z-boy-recliner.)
I feel like I’m being tested. Hmmm…just how much of me can you stand, darling wife? He has taken to hanging around the house in grey droopy gyms shorts and no shirt, rubbing his belly, with his glasses hanging off the end of his nose. He looks for all the world, like a half-naked version of Rush Limbaugh. I’m a Democrat so, to put it mildly, anything that brings to mind ole’ Rush gives me the heaves and an almost overwhelming desire to get in my car and drive 100 mph to Venezuela, just crashing through the border crossings without looking back. Don’t ask me why there. It’s just the farthest away on the continent I can picture driving.
He has taken to barking orders at me like I’m a misbehaving field hand, in public, in a restaurant, in front of his mother. Perhaps this is a less than graceful attempt to feel more in control of the situation? I don’t know, I’m not a psychologist. Needless to say, the barking went over like a lead balloon. We haven’t really come to any resolution of this yet. He explains “why he did it.” My retort is “so if you have a reason, it’s ok to engage in unacceptable behavior?” This leaves me no assurance that this won’t happen again the next time you “have a reason.”
At the moment we’re at a stalemate, like 2 bull elks with their horns stuck together.