Life with Al definitely has it ups and downs. And you must forgive me, because this morning I find myself furious...to the point that I should not be blogging. However, I also find I must vent or I will actually implode.
My husband is a bit of a "control freak". He does not think that he is, of course. But then, what control freak can see that in themselves?
Some of you may know that I went on a bit of a road trip. Well, I was gone 19 days. That might account for some of the behavior I am encountering. Now, before you say, "well, she always goes on these jaunt's without her husband..." etc, etc... I want to clarify. I was scheduled for the RT Booklovers Convention in Las Vegas. I was looking at flights and he suggested I drive. The conversation went something like this:
Al: "Why don't you just drive? Gas is cheap right now."
Me: "It's sixteen hours!"
Al: "You could go see Brooke afterwards."
Me: "Oh."
That took care of that! Brooke (my only child) has a baby. He just turned 15 months but she lives in the San Francisco area. A far cry from Oklahoma City, you see. So, I did some research on renting a car which negated the price of gas. So, I told him if we could make sure my car was road-worthy, then I would drive. And, parking at the Rio Hotel in Vegas was free!
Thus, my trip was cemented. I decided to head out a day early to see my MC4 cohort in Santa Fe. Stay my week in Vegas, head to San Fran, then come back through Utah, well, because I'd never been to Utah. I had lunch in Salt Lake City with my cousin's daughter. Then, I decided to see all of my siblings. I have four! It was fabulous. Needless to say, I talked to Al every few days, most especially when the OKC Thunder was playing.
Fast forward to getting home.
I got home on a Thursday afternoon. I fed Carly (our cat) who gladly ate, but refused to speak any further to me. Her actions were a clear message. It took an hour to unload my little 2006 BMW cci30 convertible. (Amazing how much stuff you can stuff in such a small car!)
When Al got home, he seemed genuinely glad to see me. He took me for a nice steak dinner. The next day I went to the store because, I guess all he ate while I was gone was pizza. We were out of milk and bread, blah blah blah. So I decide to cook dinner on dinner and, as I said, I went to the store, but the garlic is gone. A jar of minced garlic that I keep in the fridge. It was brand new. I go to ask Al about it...and now, he's not so happy I'm home because he's practicing guitar and I have questions.
Me: "Where is the garlic?"
Al: ignore, or rather, keeps playing
Me: Louder. "WHERE IS THE GARLIC?"
Al: "What! I don't know. I just started playing."
Me: "That's not my fault, you've had all day. Where is the garlic? It was in the fridge in a jar. It was almost new."
Al: "You were gone a month, Kathy. I had to clean things out. They were old."
I'll leave the rest of that argument. I'm sure you get the picture.
So, back to why I'm so aggravated this morning? I made a piece of toast. There is no butter in the butter dish. That's fine. I'll just put some apricot spread on it. I open the refrigerator. No, jams. No, spreads. Nothing!
Me: "Where is all the jelly?"
Al: "I had to clean things out. You were gone a month. Don't be negative."
This is my bitch. Quit harping on money if you are going to throw things away without checking expiration dates, or conferring with me on my stuff. So, what is my plan of action with this passive-aggressive behavior?
Well, I can hold everything until my head explodes. Or, I can argue until I can't see straight. Or, I could get my own apartment where no one will mess with my stuff. But that would be really expensive. Or, buy my own refrigerator for the garage. One that locks. Or, just write a crappy blog to vent.
That's the cheapest, by far.
I'll take a moment and breathe now. Thanks for listening. That's more that I get at home!
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