We're Staying Put
This weekend was more difficult than any of the three marathons I've completed. This was the move weekend. The first time I've ever moved with another person. Not just another person, but a person who owns 20 winter coats and 50 pairs of shoes. All of which are big and bulky. A person who would not participate in the actual packing process until the morning of the move, only to be surprised when the movers refused to take anything not boxed. (He sorted it out, but I had my "I told you so moment" regardless.) A person who, when it finally came time to unpack, couldn't do it without shouting out "Tracy, where is my (fill in the blank)?" "Trace, have you seen the windex/scissors/tape?" "Tra, how do I (again, fill-in-the-blank)?" In addition, my mother-in-law was there asking just as many questions. I was omniscient. I knew it all. But in addition, he would follow me around, making sure I didn't scuff the newly painted walls, Windex in hand. So I have never been more tired in my life. Or more bruised, scratched, cut up.
My poor husband (said with sarcasm) tirelessly set up his music equipment and proudly called me into the room. Again, having had plenty of roommates, but always having my own space to set up to my liking, the second room was turning into "Eric's Room" and I didn't like it. Too much equipment out - amps, speakers, guitars - so it looked like a teenaged boys room. He thought it was cool. I thought it needed a lot of help and I whined to make that point. Like I said, I was tired. And I put up with all of his neuroses for the past three days, so he has to put up with mine. Mainly that things should look GOOD and be aligned and centered, except when it's artistic not to be. The decision of which is purely mine.
But he was out all day yesterday, so I took control and made the place into a home. His equipment is still out. I'll give him that. But it flanks my laptop and once I add the curtains, it will be "Our Room", not just his. And we'll be happy and able to say that we survived our first move together. Just barely.
My poor husband (said with sarcasm) tirelessly set up his music equipment and proudly called me into the room. Again, having had plenty of roommates, but always having my own space to set up to my liking, the second room was turning into "Eric's Room" and I didn't like it. Too much equipment out - amps, speakers, guitars - so it looked like a teenaged boys room. He thought it was cool. I thought it needed a lot of help and I whined to make that point. Like I said, I was tired. And I put up with all of his neuroses for the past three days, so he has to put up with mine. Mainly that things should look GOOD and be aligned and centered, except when it's artistic not to be. The decision of which is purely mine.
But he was out all day yesterday, so I took control and made the place into a home. His equipment is still out. I'll give him that. But it flanks my laptop and once I add the curtains, it will be "Our Room", not just his. And we'll be happy and able to say that we survived our first move together. Just barely.
posted by Tracy at 1:19 PM
1 Comments:
You should be commended for still wanting a roommate after that! ;-)
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