Week Sixteen - A Day in The Life - Acid Rain
What a Chill! Paul and I have not exchanged words with one another for over 48 hours! I never thought two people could live under the same roof and not have anything to do with one another. The worst thing is that I cannot see how this current situation will change at any time in the foreseeable future.
Let me go back to what happened this week, so maybe things can make more sense.
Last Monday, after work, Paul and I were in the kitchen. I was cooking and he was sitting at the kitchen table, chatting about his work day, his mother’s herb garden and other irrelevant topics. As I said, I was cooking and he wasn’t helping me at all.
I began to feel irritated. Mind you, what was going on that evening was no different than what is going on practically every evening at our house: I do most of the cooking most of the time, and Paul sits at the kitchen table and has a beer. I have already brought up once in a previous blog how I feel about his drinking, but most of the time I don’t mind it. I understand alcohol helps him unwind, so I should let him relax, what’s wrong with that? But what about me? I also need to unwind! Yet when I come home after a full day at work, I need to think about dinner, straighten the house, maybe put a load of laundry in the washing machine, check the mail and on and on. I very seldom sit down and unwind!
Anyway, most of the time I accept this situation as part of my marriage and don’t complain too much about it. So I can’t explain why Monday evening all this irritated me more than usual. I just know I was feeling more and more annoyed as the evening went on. I even fantasized about stopping what I was doing and sitting down with him. I am sure he wouldn’t have minded it at all. He is more relaxed than I am and eating dinner an hour later would have been just ok for him.
Anyway, we were talking about bills, a hot topic between us, as there never seems to be enough money to pay for everything. Paul was not interested in having this conversation and tried to change the subject a couple of times. But I insisted. I wanted to let him know how worried I had been about stretching our money every month. Eventually, he commented, “You always manage to ruin my evenings with things that are irrelevant.” Well! Irrelevant? From then on the tone of our discussion escalated, and so did its volume. He told me I complain all the time; I am never happy with anything. I make him feel inadequate. He is tired of all this. He never thought getting married would mean to get to this point. I am too demanding, insensitive and negative. I told him a few choice things too.
This was our first big blow up. I should feel sad at this point, but I am actually too mad to feel anything else.