|What I should be doing every weekend.|
Normally I'd be elated about today being Friday. Instead I am drained, abrasive and particularly sorry about an episode I had at lunch earlier with my husband. Before going further I should preface this post with the fact that I'm prone to extreme pissiness (including uncalled-for outbursts toward loved ones) when I have no other outlet to vent my frustration. (It might be time to take up kickboxing again, or make like Regina George and join a competitive lacrosse team.)
Anyway I was supposed to meet up with my husband at 12:30 for our 1-hour lunch but got stuck in a God-awful meeting that went way over schedule and made me seriously think of gouging my eyeballs out with the nearest ballpoint pen to put myself out of my misery. After the meeting was (finally) over, I dashed out of the office and down the street, meeting up with my husband who'd already been waiting for 30 minutes. There went half our lunch break. Ugh.
So what did I do next? I yelled at him. Totally uncalled for, but I was so angry about the meeting, about the entire day, my entire decision in taking this job and making him give up his dream job just so I'd wind up complaining about mine daily. (None of this is an excuse, by the way, to lash out at poor, unsuspecting husband who just wanted to share a pastrami sandwich with his wife on a sunny afternoon.) But with me, when it rains it pours. A bad day or week or month can make me feel like my life is falling apart indefinitely. Today proved no different.
Husband, smiling on street corner: "Hi!"
Me, with a scowl: "Hey."
Husband: "I take it the meeting didn't --"
Me: "GOD, I don't want to talk about the meeting! I don't want to talk about work at all, okay?"
Me: "When are you going to start networking, huh? How do you expect to find a job just looking at job boards? Why don't you get your crap together and get started networking already."*
* - Saying this makes me SUCH a monster. I fully realize I have no right to even utter these words; it's my fault, after all, that he doesn't have a full-time job and is instead getting a three-month stipend while he works for a federal office. It was all for me. And now he's got nothing. No prospects, nothing. Just a wretched wife who makes disgusting accusations as though he didn't have the world, at one point, in the palm of his hand. Moral of the story: I should not have launched into the above tirade without counting to 10 and calming down.
Husband (starting to walk away, no more smile): "I can't believe you."
Me: "Where are you going?"
Husband: "Back to work. I don't want to have lunch with you if you're going to talk to me like that."
A few more words were exchanged, more me than him, and that's when he whipped around and with a hurt look on his face told me he understands I'm frustrated with how everything turned out, but that I can't keep taking it out on him or else someday soon I was going to "find myself alone." Ouch. Of course this comment not only stung but succeeded in antagonizing me and I was about -- about -- to blurt out the most TERRIBLE THING EVER...:
"Oh yeah? Well at least maybe then I'd find someone successful!"
So, so bad. LUCKILY I bit my tongue right before these words came out because I knew it was only the anger talking. It's a lie (I will always love him regardless of how successful he is) and it might make me feel better in the heat of the moment, but all it would do is succeed in hurting him deeply.
And maybe that's the problem. Maybe I want him to be as miserable as I am now, so I have someone to commiserate with. But that's ridiculous and such a waste of energy. Even with his job situation he manages to stay positive. I love him for that. Maybe I do just need an invigorating outlet to release all my pent-up frustration. Competitive racquetball anyone?
It's only Friday and I'm already dreading having to go in on Monday. Something is seriously wrong with this scenario.