Thought exercise: been out of town for a week. Make a

[dragonlady7]

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Thought exercise: been out of town for a week. Make a point of getting home for Valentine’s Day dinner. Make plans surrounding this, make a point of discussing it with the dude.
Text the dude as I’m packing up for the last leg of my journey, intending to be mushy.
Dude says oh there’s nothing in the house. It’s negative twelve and he’s not going out there, no way. Well… I mean, I have no choice but to drive a hundred miles in this, to come see you, bro. He says OK can you pick up bread and milk on your way into town.
I’ve been gone a week and your response to me coming back into town is can you get the groceries on your way. I spent four hours driving in bad conditions yesterday and have another two ahead of me, and my car is full of my luggage, and can you get the groceries on your way back into town.
Look, I know it’s a stupid hallmark holiday and it was dumb of me to think anyone would make any kind of deal out of it (in fact, I bought myself a present because I knew I’d want one, so I know I have that waiting, and it’s okay) but am I insane to feel really put out by this?
Could you do the grocery shopping on your way home. I’m so glad to see you, on our fourteenth Valentine’s day together, that I want you to run some errands before you get here. Because it’s cold out and I don’t want to go outside.

Single people, don’t feel so bad about this stupid holiday.
(He recanted. It’s okay. Come straight home. I’ll think of something. Oh good. Can’t wait to see you either.)

Comments

[lenine2.livejournal.com]

This immediately reminded me of the first time I understood how clueless Mr. L was about some things.

During the time we were engaged and living together I went on a three-week training trip for my job. I lived in a dorm room with a room mate, had to stand in line in the hallway to take a shower, was in class from 8 AM to 10 PM six days a week, with Sunday evenings off. We had to wear business suits during class. Breakfast was at 7 AM, lunch was at 1 PM, with nothing in between except a coffee break.

I got home that last Friday afternoon to be greeted by Mr. L telling me "I didn't go grocery shopping the entire time you were gone!" He was *proud* of this accomplishment. There wasn't anything in the house, not even a can of pop. I hadn't even taken my coat off. Thirty years later I still can't believe how stupid that was of him.

"Yay, I've gone through 19 days of absolute shit, and to welcome me, you are going to make me do the chore I hate most in the world, go grocery shopping!" I know I made him come with me, but I should have told him to go while I unpacked and did my laundry.

Or the time I made a steak dinner for New Year's Day and he took it to the TV room so he wouldn't miss the Bulls game.

Or... never mind. You get the picture.

[dragonlady7.livejournal.com]

Yeah.
The whole time I was driving home I was like, was I overreacting about this? Was I too upset? Was that too much? And that part is maybe the worst part! The worst! He goes out of town, I at least try to do *something* to prepare for his return. I don't always succeed! But oh my god. Oh my god.

I got home and went to pull in the driveway and he was in it, shoveling. It had snowed three days beforehand. I had texted him two hours prior to let him know I was on my way. And he was shoveling it out now. I had to park on the street and wade through slush to get into the house.

And then he took my car and went grocery shopping. But I'd had to have a tantrum at him first.

I'm just glad other people understand. I'm also sorry other people understand. You know?

[kkatowll.livejournal.com]

It is totally a fake holiday but still, geeeez.