some assembly required

We are a bickering couple.

I am in awe of friends who say they’ve never had a fight. Really? Maybe they don’t have the sixteen years of practice that we do. Maybe they keep their shit all pent up and we’ll hear about the eventual spillover one day when it’s too late; they just waited too long to duke it out and now it’s over. Maybe they’re special.

I am a very vocally frustrated person. I “UGH” and “FOR EFF SAKES” quite a bit when I am angry or feeling helpless. Apparently I’m known to roll my eyes on occasion (or hourly if you believe his side of things). They’re mostly directed at whatever I can’t figure out, whatever I’ve stubbed my toe on. The air. History. Pent up shit I’m incapable of keeping in. As I age my patience dwindles at an astonishing pace. I am hopeless but to watch it circling the drain. I blame it on grief, but that’s old news.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t say your name. You are in no way involved.” (Me, trying to avoid the bicker)

“You need to chill out. Get a massage for god’s sake.” (Him, 100% Grade-A annoyingly correct)

I know. I know. Trust me, I’d stop it if I could. And then it’s over and once again we’re laughing at each other or cooking or curled up like a pretzel on the couch for some PVR time. All these years and bickerments later – there isn’t a soul I’d rather hang out with than him. Love is strange and delicious and occasionally difficult. Apparently it needs patience to survive – thank god he has some.

.::.

Over the weekend we put together a bookcase from Ikea. ‘Budget Billy’ I like to call him. We did it in less than two hours, without a single snarky comment between the two of us. I’m still in shock, three days later. I’m determined to hack it up a bit and add some sort of moulding/trim to make it slightly less obvious. Where a saw may be involved, I can’t make any promises on the snark level. We’ll see.

Before:

During:

After:

We need a rug and some cozy reading chairs. There are boxes and boxes of books in the garage, piled high with thirty or forty others filled with unknown contents.

We’ll get there.

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