Have a Seat

I was hanging out with a group of women the other day and one of us was complaining about the spotting issue.

You know, those spots of pee left behind right in front of the toilet for you to step in later.

Apparently pee is damaging to her floors so when she has parties, she patrols the bathroom for mop up detail. She ended by saying that she could tell us which men have the most caustic pee.

Ha ha! We all laughed in commiseration.

Another woman pipes up with, "My husband sits down to pee!"

After thinking, "and wouldn't he be thrilled to know you are telling us all this tidbit?" i let her statement sink in.

I didn't know a man could do that! I mean, i just never even considered it. I got an amusing mental image though.

I mentioned this (somewhat hopefully i admit) to my husband when i got home. He laughed at me and said, "in your dreams!"

Damn!

Hypersensitive

This happened a while ago, but i just started to think about it the other day in a new way.

The Mister and i went out to dinner with another couple who are good friends. Wine, food, conversation, the usual.

During the dinner The Mister did this thing he does that makes me cringe. He acted all the Big Man with the waiter, trying to be buddies with the man. Discussing wine like he knows what he's talking about, talking with a slightly louder voice than usual, leaning back in his chair and nodding knowingly.

Ugh!

The next morning i went for a walk with the woman half of the couple, as we have enjoyed doing together for years. As we were walking and talking about this that and everything else, she told me that she had been SO EMBARRASSED by her husband's behavior the night before.

Huh? I hadn't noticed him doing anything heinous.

Apparently he had done this thing that he does and tune out anything that might make him have to participate in any decisions regarding the meal, choosing wine, discussing whether or not to get an appetizer or a dessert, dividing up the bill. He's a "whatever you guys decide" sort of man.

She mentioned it because The Mister ended up paying for more of the meal than he should, because her husband had not been paying attention, and she felt badly about it.

I hadn't even noticed, and in any case, it tied in nicely with the Big Man routine of The Mister.

Ha ha, we laughed and went on to something else.

This happened about 6 months ago, and for some reason i thought about it the other day. I hadn't realized how it shows how all up in our respective husband's business we both are. Looking for things to criticize and privately roll our eyes over and be anxious about.

Pretty silly when you think about it that way.

Gaslighted

I read something i shouldn't have. Something that wasn't good for me.

It was a book called "Happens Every Day" about the disintegration of a woman's marriage because her husband fell in love with someone else.

As an aside, i cannot recommend this book on a literary level, it's not all that well written. But what it did capture was that level of insanity being lied to by someone you are supposed to trust creates in you.

Where you KNOW something, you know it with every instinct that you possess, but you are told, repeatedly, that you are wrong, you are crazy, you are a jealous controlling person who needs to get some help.

You are being gaslighted.

I realize that i am more afraid of being lied to than being cheated on. It creates more damage. It's the way out for a coward. The coward who can tell him (or her) self that they are doing this to try and spare you the heartache, when in reality, they are sparing themselves from the consequences of their behavior.

See how i used this book to pick open an old scar and make it bleed again?

I should have but the book down (okay, it was on my Kind!e, i should have deleted it) and never picked it up again when i realized how wounded i was starting to feel, how angry.

So the question is, why the hell would i do that to myself? I can't come up with any good answers for that question. But it clearly holds some appeal for me. I have to admit that these sorts of stories fascinate me. And that's just creepy.

What is wrong with me that i would do this?

There are some things that you never really "get over" you just get on.

Life in a bubble

I've been existing in a sort of bubble of unreality for the past month or so.

Moving.
The "Holidays." (Used an excuse for practically anything and everything. Depressed? It's the "Holidays." Too busy? It's the "Holidays." Happy? Lazy? Eating too much or too little? Yep, must be those pesky "Holidays." Kind of like the whole nation gets its' period. (Oops, sorry, got carried away. End rant))
The Mister being on vacation.
Em home from school.
Off to the ocean for a few days.

I have been reluctant to come out of this bubble, as there is work associated with reality that i would prefer to ignore.

While in the bubble, if we get hungry, Hey! No problem, off to a restaurant. In reality, the credit card bills for eating every meal out are nasty. So, back to meal planning and shopping.

In the bubble, the computer is used for playing yet another game of Chainz. In reality, i must answer e-mails and pay bills and converse with lawyers and insurance companies.

In the bubble, moving into a new home meant that i could avoid housework because everything was so clean to start with. In reality, the dust bunnies are raising their grandchildren right out in the open. So, i must find the vacuum cleaner and USE it.

In the bubble, all the eating and drinking has no consequences. In reality, it, um, does. So, back to moderation.