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a Wednesday’s child kind of day

November 14, 2014

{Writing this Thursday night, but it’ll post Friday morning.}

One of Spouse’s car’s tires was leaking air, so he made an appointment at the dealership to have it fixed. Although he was working from home today, somehow we had to get his car to the dealership by 7:30 because Reasons. (He normally begins work around 9 a.m.) I normally wake up no earlier than 9:40. I was worried about oversleeping, so I slept poorly.

I had an amazing dream that I woke up from around 5 AM. But I didn’t want to go through all the bother of writing it all down, as that was going to cut into my already-limited sleep time. I just hoped I would have another good dream before having to leave with the cars.

Spouse woke me up at 7:15, and apparently expected me to be able to leave right away. I had to dress. I had to eat. Hell, I had to wake up.

There “wasn’t time” for me to have breakfast, so I grabbed a protein bar and ate it as I was putting on my shoes. Spouse reminded me of the route we were taking “in case we got separated” (we have often gotten separated during early-morning drives like this because he, even knowing I’m behind him half-asleep, runs yellow lights, leaving me to face the red light).

At the dealership, when he got into my car, he fussed about the blanket I’m using to pad my hurt right elbow. I yanked it back, saying I have to have it for my elbow; he announced that he then just wouldn’t wear his seatbelt. While I was already driving.

I have a firm rule: everyone wears seatbelts at all times while the car is moving. I don’t drive to the end of the block without putting on my seatbelt. If I have a passenger, I don’t start the car until their seatbelt is fastened.

I was already fuming, and this… just broke my brain.

I snarled at him, “I consider doing this [taking him to the dealership at 7:30, omg]a Huge Favor! But you didn’t even ask me, you told me. And without me making a fuss right now [[I was sputtering by this point]], you probably won’t even say Thank you!” Oh, I was so mad.

And he didn’t say Thank you. He said nothing at all, except for giving me directions (which I needed because I was still half-asleep).

When we got home, I was too riled up to go back to sleep, so I made a pot of coffee and stayed up.

If I don’t run errands on Tuesdays, I run them on Thursdays (because on those days, Panera has the soup I like, so I treat myself). I wasn’t feeling well Tuesday, I see P on Wednesdays and Fridays, and I have an all-day thing on Saturday, so I had lots to do today! Yesterday’s lovely weather, though, had disappeared — my ears/sinuses were bothering me, I felt lethargic and possibly ill.

Not a good start to my day.

Spouse worked from home. His work office is adjacent to my writing nook, so I got to hear every time he cussed about something on the computer not working. Which was a lot. That makes me jumpy. So I went into the bedroom to write instead. I would normally do that sitting on the bed, but he hasn’t set up the headboard yet, and there are no chairs in there, so I awkwardly sat on the floor with my laptop. My mind was blank of writing ideas though.

Might as well run my errands, except … it’s so cold outside, and I just don’t feel like doing much of anything.

I noticed I felt unusually hungry at noon. Then realized that was because… I forgot to eat breakfast. So I ate breakfast, but I was annoyed and jumpy at the disruption of my (usually-enjoyable) morning rituals.

I finally remembered to photograph the spiky orange fruit!

Went back into the bedroom for a while. When I came out, Spouse had heard from the dealership: his tire had a nail in it at an odd angle, so they couldn’t patch it — he’d have to buy a new tire, and they might not finish taking care of it until Friday. Spouse was pissed at the extra expense. It did not occur to him then (although it did occur to me) that, if his car was kept overnight, he was going to have some difficulties picking it up, as I would be near Annapolis for the afternoon/evening. I figured, “that’s his problem”, and did not consider it further.

Spouse did thank me, eventually.

I reminded Spouse I was expecting a package in the mail, so maybe someone would knock on the door.

I left the apartment around 1:45 to go to the old apartment because my nose spray was there. I packed some other stuff up too: my shoe-hanging-thing, some books, 6 coffee mugs, a couple towels, rolls of art papers, my Chesapeake Bay satellite photo, odds and ends.

I decided I couldn’t spare the time to go to Panera because Spouse’s car might need to be picked up. I got back, unloaded most of my car, but it was starting to rain, so I left the books in the trunk.

Unable to write because desperately tired, mind blank.

Dealership called at 4, saying they were able to finish the car after all. I told Spouse I would go to Panera after dropping him off at dealership. I did that. I spent more time than I normally would, because I was on Twitter, decompressing. During that time, rain turned to wintry mix.

Realized that, not only would I have to buy gas twice this week (unheard of!) because of the 2 sessions with P + all the trips back and forth between apartments, but I’d actually have to buy gas again because Saturday morning I’ll be driving out to Glenmont station, so I can go to DC. Three times in one week = $60+, which is, well, 60% of the $100 that goes into my checking account every 2 weeks.

For comparison, before I started seeing P, I bought gas every 3-4 weeks. Seeing P once/week, I bought gas every 2 weeks. Seeing her twice a week, I bought gas every week.

Walking out to my car, I suddenly realized I’d need snacks for Saturday, and I wouldn’t be able to buy them Friday night (a normal grocery night) because P, so I’d better get them while I was at the mall. Walked over to the supermarket and did that. Texted Spouse because I knew I’d been gone a pretty long time. Drove home carefully.

Spouse’s car was not at home. Texted him again, “I’m home, where are you?” No answer. Tweeted about it. Practiced diaphragmatic breathing and not panicking. People were reassuring, but the weather had me worried, as did the fact that he hadn’t mentioned that he’d be away from home.

I checked the mailbox; my package had fit inside it. Struggling to open the package, the scissors slipped and I sliced one of my fingers at the knuckle. It really hurt.

Time went by. I did laundry. I washed the nose spray nozzle, then sprayed myself! Put some stuff away.

Finally called Spouse (last resort). His phone rang here; it was sitting on his desk.

He carries that damn phone everywhere he goes. We had parted ways at the dealership 2.5 hours before. Even if he’d gone on to the old apartment, what could he have been doing there for that amount of time? At this point, I couldn’t stop visions of him injured in a car accident, or possibly dead, coursing through my mind.

I wrote him a note (in case he got back), grabbed a handful of snacks, my gloves and scarf, and headed out in my car to retrace his steps to the old apartment. If that didn’t work, I wasn’t sure what to do.

At the bottom of the hill, and then to the right (in the residential neighborhood), his car passed mine, so I knew he was alive. I turned around, but I took my time. I wanted him to find my note. When I got back up the hill, to our place, he was messing around with parking and re-parking his car, but I thought he was setting out to look for me. So that was annoying.

He couldn’t figure out why I was upset. (Hello, anxiety disorder! Which I have mentioned, hundreds of times!) He hadn’t seen my note. He hadn’t been out doing things for the entire 3 hours. He’d gone back to the new apartment from the dealership. Then had gone in to his actual office, to work on stuff, where he’d noticed he’d forgotten his cell, but hey, so what? Then over to the old apartment.

I Tweeted a bunch to calm down, but it took a really long time.

He went to bed early-ish (10:30 PM), but I was itching for him to get out of my headspace so I could write or whatever. But really, it took another hour on Twitter for me to finally feel back on an even keel. That’s when I began writing this.


I didn’t have a chance to tell him Wednesday, and Thursday I was too damn upset to tell him much of anything, but … this is the last week I’ll see P twice. So, it would’ve been grand if I’d had a good day Thursday, processing a very intense session Wednesday.

Instead, Thursday was annoying => compounding frustrations for, oh, 16 hours.

I didn’t sleep well enough to process Wednesday. I missed out on whatever the cool dream that I don’t recall was. My entire day Thursday was messed up. And because I couldn’t bring myself to start writing before 11:30, I couldn’t actually finish this post while it was still Thursday, so that’s now 2 days that I missed doing consecutive posts until the end of the year.

I hope I have memorable dreams tonight, and I don’t have to get up early (thank the gods), but… this is so not how I would’ve preferred things to go.

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