7:25 a.m. - Wednesday, Jan. 11, 2006
MsLeslie Puts Her Foot Down
I finished cleaning and organizing my garage yesterday. I was pretty proud of it. I built racks on the wall to hold shovels, rakes and brooms, a special one for my world�s all time best ladder, and a set of shelves to hold all the garage type items that usually drift back and forth across the floor. But beyond the pride I found in making something out of nothing, e.g. the scrap lumber left over from the roofing job, I felt yesterday that after six months of chaos, I had finally officially �moved in� to my house. My life is, I desperately hope, finally coming back to some kind of order.
Oh, I said yesterday, but I meant the day before. Yesterday was just a touch less orderly, as I spent it with THS (tender-hearted sadist) trying to find breakfast on a street where I already knew there was no breakfast to be found, obtain a cheap replacement for the dog-chewed laptop PC power cord where I knew no cheap replacement was to be found, and then race to the VA clinic to make his appointment for a surgery consult.
I�ve been made to believe I have a submissive personality. Maybe I do; I do like to please others, and at times, I relish the experience of not having to make any decisions for myself. At other times, I have to struggle very hard to give up the control over my situation. It�s not something I enjoy. On the contrary, it�s really very stressful for me.
Yesterday, the stress got out of control for a moment, after THS mistakenly drove all the way up to the gate at Keesler AFB and had to ask permission to turn around. Having been allowed to pass the gate, He decided that as long as we were �in�, we might as well drive to the commissary and do some shopping. I guess I was already pretty stressed out. I was really hungry for breakfast, but I could see the meal disappearing as THS found first one reason and then another to delay the act of actually going to a restaurant and ordering some food. Anyway, the idea of being in a car that was on base illegally threw me into an absolute panic. With little warning, I put my foot down and demanded that he turn around immediately and get off base. That action stunned THS; He absolutely hates to be told what to do, and so he went into a bit of a rage.
Our fights are brief but very ugly. Fact is, we don�t really fight. Our fights consist of him verbally assaulting me while I dissociate and look for an opportunity to escape. Thankfully, the scenario doesn�t last very long. To his credit, he is pretty quick to assess the situation, realize that we need to cool off, and make a conciliatory move. In this case, that move was to take my hand and put it on his leg. I had the option, of course, of rejecting that move, but maybe to my own credit, I recognize that he is telling me he�s ready to talk.
It was a poor start to the day. Sure, we made up quickly�. Over breakfast at the Cracker Barrel�. But even though we came to terms with what happened, the negative energy took most of the day to dissipate. I hate it when we fight. If it happened very often, I think I would end the relationship� or maybe he would beat me to it.
At the Cracker Barrel, I did something out of the ordinary for myself. I didn�t need them, I couldn�t really afford them before I buy my truck, but I bought two lovely little garden fairies, to be placed whenever I get my yard fenced and arranged. Actually, they weren�t so little, but they ARE lovely.. and unusual. I�m glad I did it. They are something I can love and I can�t wait to get them in the yard.
Today is unplanned. I�m just going to do my best to go with the flow of it. But tomorrow is the big trip to the GSA auto auction. I sure do hope I can come home with a decent pickup truck.
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