Grown Ass Woman

 

I’m having a bad hair day, and even though it’s Friday afternoon, I just can’t relax-I have a case of the My husband is leaving on a business trip Blues.  Why, we’ve only been apart twice-once when he went to Idaho for a ten day hunting trip, and a business trip to Pittsburgh last Spring.  Hey, I’m like every other woman on planet Earth-I like to put my hair down, my feet up and order some Chinese takeout.  I love watching what I want to watch (not that it makes a difference, I can’t watch television without him beside me.)  I can play the music loud, dance barefoot and naked, and even eat in bed with no repercussions.  Not a one.

It has been like this for as long as I’ve known him-and the fact is, I don’t care what people think-never have, never will.  Yes, I have my own interests.  Yes, I am very much my own woman, and fairly independent.  After a day of humanity, I want my man at home, in my bed, snuggled close for comfort.

And that’s not the entire reason I could spit nails (better than weeping, which is the current situation.)  I have a friend who suffers from horrible NPD abuse, and she is extremely sensitive.  We had a huge falling out a few months back, but we talked it out.  As is my wont, I don’t really trust that she won’t melt down again, and I am having none of her current temper tantrum.   As I was multitasking my ass off today, I received a text from her, asking me to join her in February-for a painting class.  I readily agreed and went for our hike.  I came home, two hours later, to this message:

But you didn’t sign up for the class, Michele.   Did you pay for it?

Stefanie gets confused easily, a combination of her medicine and neurological damage from Lyme disease.  I am extremely patient with this, even when I am preparing to, say,  pull my own teeth out of my mouth, set my hair on fire, or, preferably?  Find some unsuspecting telemarketer to ream.  Maybe I should call Verizon and bitch about my lack of wi-fi-.  No.  I’d probably end up in the slammer.

Speaking of hair, I found my first greys today-and surprisingly-it stings.  I hadn’t thought myself that vain, go figure.

Okay, back to that conversation…

Me:  What?  Okay, I’ll stop by the church and pay.

S.:  Michele, I go to ________ why would you stop by St. Paul’s to pay?  Why would you do that when I offered to sign you up?

Me:  Okay, sign me up.  🙂

Now she isn’t speaking to me.  I am telling you, I had a very bad hair day.

Just as things appeared to be calming down, my husband sent me a Meme-on how to be stronger and not so sensitive.  He didn’t know about my day, but after that little number?  Oh, he’s hearing it baby, every stinking word.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.