A rough day

I started bracing myself for the day when I got this message:

Looks like I'm going sofa shopping again with Deb. So might not be here at lunch time. Depending on how long it takes me to get ready. Since I'm not up yet and have to eat and shower.>3 - exact text message, 9:58 a.m.

I wasn't really sure how to respond to this, but made a conscious effort not to assume the worst. This was a small challenge given my frustration the previous night, when I had to clean up in the kitchen from the whole weekend while I was getting dinner together.  I was pleasantly relieved by the next communication:

I washed the dishes, while I was waiting for Deb, who was supposed to be here by now.  But I didn't put the clean ones away first so it's kind of a mishmash - phone call, 11-ish

This was one of two things that I reaaally wanted taken care of yesterday.  Yeah, I think it's weird not to put the clean dishes away first, but at least the dirty ones were taken care of and I wouldn't have to deal with anything in order to get lunch.  I decided that I'd take care of any drying and putting away that needed to be done while I was home at lunch time.  I thought the afternoon was pretty smooth, except for two landmines I didn't see:

So someone told me these were to die for. I just say they are all right. - wife's FB photo of PB&J candy bar from Trader Joe's. 

*Please* tell me you were able to buy just one . . . - my comment on wife's photo

So I walk in the door just before having to leave for choir rehearsal, and get my case completely jumped.  When I took the gate down to use the bathroom, I had a fleeting thought of needing to put it back up.  By the time I finished, I didn't even give the gate a second thought on the way back out.  So the dog pushed open the guest room door and got into the chocolate set aside to be packed for "the Aloha grandkids."   As much trouble as he was in, I was, too.  Two things: he's just a dog, and is destined to go where his nose leads him.  I should have put the gate back up.  But in the five minutes I was home between work and rehearsal, I didn't even remember going back into that part of the house at lunch time.  Then I also got my case jumped for "not giving me any credit at all" because I didn't know how TJ's packages their candy.  Between these two quick hits in the few minutes I was home, I left for a capella rehearsal pretty angry.  And also a little hungry, though even in the moment I knew that was more my fault than my wife's; dinner may not have been completely ready, but I hadn't left myself time anyway to eat more than a few bites of what she did have ready.

By the time I got home after our two-hour rehearsal, I still didn't really remember going into the back part of the house, but realized at least that I might have. Things were calmer when I got home, and I think this admission as soon as I walked in the door may have helped with that. The Bachelor season finale was on, so there wasn't really a chance to really deal with either of our sets of feelings. When I went into the bathroom, I immediately remembered being in there earlier, though still only vaguely remembered dealing with the gate in order to get there. Afterwards I again apologized for my mistake, which she seemed to accept; it even seemed not very important to her anymore.

Yet I was feeling as if The Bachelor was more important than tending our relationship was. Maybe she was still too angry over the earlier events, or maybe she's just that captivated by this program. In retrospect, I might have felt the same way if we'd been having a conflict during the Super Bowl. Still, by the time we had another minor conflict at bedtime over how to deal with the dog since he hadn't eaten his food at his usual time because of having been in trouble, I went to bed feeling rejected and lonely. I didn't fall asleep very quickly, and awoke around 3 and couldn't get back to sleep. I wasn't angry so much as hurting. It took me a long time to be able to just reach over and put my arm over her. The truth of our relationship is that we will always reconcile more quickly if I make the first overture. I'm generally able to get beyond my feelings to that point more quickly.  But, although she didn't move away, she also didn't seem very receptive to the contact.  Even at the time I was aware that this could have been nothing more than her being asleep, but it was hard to be certain. After a while I got up and went out to the sofa, which I was sharing with the dog; it was probably 4:30 when I went back in to bed, at which point she seemed more accepting of my presence.

It's hard, on such nights, to not have at least a passing thought that I mustn't entertain.  It's a good thing these evenings are so infrequent.