December 7, 2001

     i've been browsing through some of the other journals in the Holidailies ring and wondering how the heck people find so much time to write all these great posts!  Never mind finding the stuff to talk about.  i'm either really boring, or really slow at writing.  Hmm.  Well i know i'm slow at writing - it's gotten easier over the years, but it's still a struggle to put thoughts into coherent patterns sometimes.

     And Himself has not given any more of the promised task/subject ideas since the first one.  If anyone wants to email on that little digression (ahem) i'll cheerfully forward them along to Him.  *insert sweet smile here*

     Tonight we are going to an art studio though and i can't wait!  i've become hugely addicted to the idea of walking through galleries just 'cause i can.  Something that didn't ever happen in my 'before' world.  Largely because there weren't any galleries to attend, but also because there wasn't a chance i'd drag the ex hubster into one of them.  

     But Himself likes them as much as i do, even if our pocket book says no when we find something we like.  We can still drool.  We can still enjoy and come back to visit from time to time.  

     Last night didn't turn out quite the way we'd planned.  First it was the surprise visit from my son, for dinner and a haircut.  Doesn't that sound like the typical 21 year old - at least he didn't bring laundry along this time.  But we do enjoy having him here so much - and especially now that our work schedules conflict - visiting has become harder to arrange.

     So it was a bit late when Himself and i finally made our way upstairs and a final check of the email before bed.  Whereupon all romance went out the window as we started arguing over something silly.  i'd tried to create a small excel thing for Him the day before, which didn't save properly - and i tried to find it to see if it was something He'd overlooked or i'd messed up.  i genuinely wanted to know what had gone wrong so i wouldn't make the same mistake next time.

     He took it as me insinuating He was stupid or something and got insulted.  That's pretty much when all hell broke loose.  i got ticked, He got ticked - next thing i know He's making up the spare bed.  At which point i really lost it and did what He hates the most - started swearing as we were arguing.  He really, really hates that.  

     So He starts telling me to stop swearing and i'm saying why?  To me His retreat to a spare bed instead of working things out is a form of swearing at me.   Like giving me 'the bird'.  It's tit for tat.  

     He stomps off to the bathroom.  i put the futon back together (i haven't a clue how i did that since most of the time i can't lift it - gotta love adrenaline).  i'm so mad and determined He's not going to pout and treat me this way, i toss the pillows and the blanket down the stairs.  He comes to bed.  Our bed.

     We woke up this morning and cuddled.  A friendly hug to start the day - a huge regret that we both lost our cool.  i told Him He is so important to me. We apologized to each other - there's nothing worse than a silly argument.  And we argue as passionately as we make love.

      We made love.            

                

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