Thursday, February 18, 2010


Decided to keep looking for a doctor and made a new appointment to meet with a new doctor Jay is sort of satisfied with March 12th. So, of course, until March 12th we both be separate bundles of nerves who avoid discussing what is making us so nervous until one (or the both) of us accidentally drinks an entire bottle of red wine.

Not that this has happened before.

I would think that after eight years of togetherness, six years of co-habitation, and almost four years of marriage we'd be more comfortable talking about things that make us uncomfortable. We are, however, not. I am also not comfortable with total daytime nudity or smelly farts when I'm not also farting. Also, I still hate football. And wish he didn't spend my money buying sneakers.

And this makes me think of something that occurred to me this weekend. We were out shopping for apartment stuff. I wanted a jewelery stand I'd seen at Urban Outfitters (it's a white tree...really it) and to hunt around for other stuff for the new china cabinet and bookcase configuration we have going on in the dining room. In buying this stuff and then arranging it here back at home, it made me feel like certain spaces in the apartment (i.e. every room except for the living room) is mine. Like, the way the bedroom is decorated? Is pretty much how my bedroom would be decorated if I lived alone. And the dining room? There is no real J. there either. Primarily because he couldn't have cared less while we picking out the furniture...and does not really care at all about things like where does all of wedding serve ware go. But still.

Are all homes like that?

Or, more interestingly, how does he feel about that? Does he feel like a guest in his own bedroom?

I love our bedroom. I spend most of my time in the apartment there. I mean, in the new apartment, the living room is downstairs and is sort of dark and we haven't made it seem warm and cozy yet, so I guess it's understandable. But I've always, in all of our apartments, favored our bedroom.

Also, to be honest, if I asked J. if this whole bedroom thing bothered him and he said yes? I'm not sure I'd be so open to changing much. Like, if I were to say, "J., what would make you feel more at home in this room?" and his reply was, "I would like to hang these needlepoint guns I got for $1 at the Salvation Army in 1998," I'd probably have to say no.

Although he doesn't have needlepoint guns. That would maybe be kind of cool enough to squeeze in. So perhaps that was a bad example.

Unrelated thought: I never want to go back to work ever again. I don't want to plan another lesson or grade another late essay. I don't want to see my children or put my sad lunch in the teacher's refrigerator EVER AGAIN.

Not good. Many weeks left in this year. Oy.

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