So I'm sitting in my apartment feeling slightly stir-crazy and then it hits me... I started a blog a while back and rather than sit here and wonder what to do I could do something. I know, crazy thought huh. Work with me here. So I think to myself, "How does one find a lost blog?" The Internet is a vast wasteland of media and random blogs. Should I put up a picture hoping someone brings my poor blog home? Then it occurs to me. I'll Google some of the words I had in the blog title. Well that didn't work very well. Try Googling "ravings lunatic". Surprise! I'm not the only one. Apparently my title wasn't as witty as I had previously thought. Scratch that idea off the list. What else might work. How did I find my blogging engine? I Googled blog! *type into Google search bar*. Brilliant! Oddly enough I was still logged in.
So now here i sit with pen...err keyboard in hand, relaying how I found my sad little lonely blog that only I know about (I can only assume since there is nay a comment on my page). Why am I here you ask? (Well you didn't but my story requires I presume you do) I need distraction. My husband --previously mentioned, never named-- has angered me off to the degree that I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. Not because I did anything wrong but because I hope to convey just how infuriated I am with him. For those of you who aren't married, husbands know their wives are mad when they get kicked out of the room, they sleep with one eye open when the wife refuses to sleep in the bed. What ispired this wrath you ask? Well I have the good fortune of being married to a man who --by his admission-- is stubborn. Not normal stubborn but ridiculous, bang your face on things you're so frusterated, stubborn. If he decides the sky is green, and you point at the sky and show him it's blue, and ask all your friends what colour it is and they say blue, and you talk to sky experts and they say it's blue, he'll still insist it's green.
The man makes me boil.
Anyway, he INSISTED that I was doing something that I know I wasn't (not that it matters but he thought my finger was in my mouth, resting on my teeth to be specific, and I maintain it was not in my mouth). You cannot possibly know how infuriating it is to have this sort of conversation with someone.
"It was in your mouth"
"It was not in my mouth it was on my lip like this"*demonstrates thumb on lip*
"I saw it in your mouth"
"Well you saw wrong because my finger was near my mouth but it wasn't in my mouth"
"I saw it in your mouth"
"There is no way you saw it in my mouth. It wasn't in my mouth. I can understand how you might have glanced and thought it was cause it was near my mouth but it wasn't acctually in my mouth"
"I saw it in your mouth. I know what I saw. I'm not delusional"
Now here's the part where I, despite all that is stacked against me, resist the overwhelming urge to slam my face into the table. It's bad enough to know someone is wrong, but even worse when they will not even meet you halfway. Regardless, I am now mad, he is now sour cause I yelled at him, and my back will hurt in the morning because the couch is old and has springs missing. Tune in next time for the episode where we argue about who touched the remote last.
Sleep well and rave wise.
1 comment:
Dude! I forgot to tell you about this!
Back when I was pregnant and truly not feeling well, I tried to go to bed early. It wasn't happening because son 2 kept coming in to jump on me or son 1 to ask questions- all after I had told my dearest husband that I wasn't well and was going to bed and he needed to watch the children.
In a fit of frustration and anger, I stripped all the bedclothes and took them to the master bathroom, wherein I built myself a bed on the floor, closed the door and laid down to sleep. My loving husband got the point, remade the bed for me and actually kept the children occupied.
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