Some things do not go well together. It's not chocolate and peanut butter. I'm even having a hard time thinking. And writing words correctly.
Since there was nothing I felt like doing, I figured I'd do something that needed doing. I wouldn't choose something useful or even particularly satisfying though. No, I chose to look for my missing truck keys that have been gone about nine months or so. This makes it apparent that I don't exactly need them, because I would have made a better effort to find them. Even if I were to succeed in the task, I'm not going to feel much accomplishment, because I don't really need them. The likelihood of success was painfully low too. Even urgency expired a long time ago. No one has gotten in the house or stolen our truck, so those keys are either really lost or in some deep, dark corner of the house. I found some other keys during my search, including an original house key after having three stinkin' spares made less than a week ago, but no truck key set. As expected.
I did this in an effort to combat sitting around feeling sorry for myself, sitting around eating, sitting around watching TV, or sitting around doing all three. I thought if I did something useful every time I felt like sitting around, I'd be pretty productive. A lot of procrastinated stuff might get done too. It worked fairly well yesterday, because I fixed Booie's dresser and coat stand and painted her walls when all I really wanted to do was sit around. Today it didn't work so well because I picked a stupid task. I should find keys while cleaning, which is really the only way it will happen if they are to be found at all. I can live with the twinge of worry that a psycho neighbor found them in the driveway or left in the door like I tend to do and will one day slaughter us all. In an effor to be realistic and all.
I think I feel so restless on weekends so often because John is off doing his own thing while I'd like to do things together. Even if it's crappy things, like cleaning. Doing crappy things with someone else always makes them a little less crappy. Unless you're fighting or hate the other person or get stuck with a non-talker. John fits into all three of those categories at different times, but usually I like having him around. I consider that to be normal. I think most people would rather clean a basement with a friend. Except for those solitary types, which unfortunately, describes John. That, and he hates doing things on his days off. That would leave work days for him to do things, but then he's too tired because he worked all day. Get the picture? I always wonder who really does like either of those. Somehow, other people get things done and often it's done with a partner.
I grew up with parents that got things done together on weekends. And I see it a lot around here, so I don't think I have crazy, unreasonable expectations. I just have a crazy, unreasonable husband. I end up doing nothing a lot of the time. After all, why should I bust my hump doing things that benefit him too when he's sitting on his ass playing? Yeah, I'm a second-grader. My heightened sense of fairness does not always serve me well. As much as it would help me to let go and just get the things done I want, I hang onto what's right. The balance between John and me might be closer to level because of it, but the balance of my life got knocked over long ago.
Today I made an exception to expecting anything of him. But it doesn't mean I still wouldn't like him to do something with me. It just means I won't complain or pick a fight since he's holed up in the basement. He gets to hide out in his own little world, even if the day is about being a father in a family of actual people. You know, a social thing. But I can accept that Father's Day can be about taking a break from all that. My interpretation is mine, and I won't impose it. I don't like being left alone any more than usual though. I just won't say anything about it. Happy Father's Day, John.
Now I have to think of something else to do. I don't want to do anything else that will take me by him, because I'm too irritated. Cleaning always takes me downstairs, because so much ends up needing to go down there. There are too many piles in the living room as it is, so I don't want to add to that. It would be best to get rid of the knot in my chest anyway. Cleaning definitely won't do that. Writing doesn't seem to be helping either. I feel like eating, but there's nothing around here I want, and I know I only want to eat to numb myself. If there were something here I wanted, you can pretty much bet I'd eat it though. Haven't conquered that.
Problem solved. John came in and asked me to do the money with him, so that helped because he's addressing a problem area. I feel better. Not all better, but better. Now I won't have to do a bad job of covering up I'm unhappy. I can cover disgruntled OK.
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One Year Ago Today:
