I'm not very good at not knowing what's going to happen next. Wait, no - that's not true at all. I'm not very good at not knowing what's going to happen next with regards to my partner - it doesn't really bother me much at all with anybody else.
This morning I woke because the lights were on and my partner was up. It was really quite early - still grey and cool, barely light. We were out late last night and not in bed until after midnight. I also remember him being uncomfortable with indigestion, and the dog not being very well not long before bed, so I called out, thinking something might be wrong. Everything was fine. He came in to say goodbye. He has a seven thirty am golf game, an hour and a bit more of a drive away. "Oh, didn't I tell you that?". Nope, not at all.
Damn. Why does that annoy me/upset me/throw me off kilter as much as it does? I don't really know. You know what? I really like it when he goes out for a half day or a day and I get the day to myself at home. It's really peaceful and I don't feel guilty to sit and write, or read. He's off doing something recreational, so why should I kill myself over the housework, truly. I get tired of the constant tv and radio when he's here too. I struggle to sit quietly and write with noise streaming through the house and also, he's not one of those people who just watches, if I'm anywhere within a sight line, he wants to chat too. That's lovely - but not conducive to writing!
I know that if I want to write, I should go and lock myself away somewhere - but I don't really have that somewhere and often I'll have been sitting happily at the kitchen table, blogging away, or writing in my journal, or whatever, and along he'll come and settle in to the lounge to watch telly. We have terrible reception too - so telly is often accompanied with horrible digital sounds or these kind of, well, popping sort of sounds, through the speakers. I find it really unsettling and difficult to focus or relax with that sound invading my space. Oh well, the joys of shared living I guess.
Anyway. Off to golf he's gone. Now that I have had a chance to digest the information, it's just fine. It's just the waking up to it and being taken by surprise by it that throws me off. I tried not to seem upset or to harp on about it. I feel like I've said so many times that I don't like it. He must have remembered last night as he was going to bed that he was going. I'm certain he must have had to set an alarm. What would be wrong with just saying at that point - hey - did I tell you I'm playing golf tomorrow, far from home, and leaving early? Would that be hard?
*sigh*
I guess I just need to adjust my attitude. It's easier to change my own expectations rather than hope to change anybody else!
This morning I woke because the lights were on and my partner was up. It was really quite early - still grey and cool, barely light. We were out late last night and not in bed until after midnight. I also remember him being uncomfortable with indigestion, and the dog not being very well not long before bed, so I called out, thinking something might be wrong. Everything was fine. He came in to say goodbye. He has a seven thirty am golf game, an hour and a bit more of a drive away. "Oh, didn't I tell you that?". Nope, not at all.
Damn. Why does that annoy me/upset me/throw me off kilter as much as it does? I don't really know. You know what? I really like it when he goes out for a half day or a day and I get the day to myself at home. It's really peaceful and I don't feel guilty to sit and write, or read. He's off doing something recreational, so why should I kill myself over the housework, truly. I get tired of the constant tv and radio when he's here too. I struggle to sit quietly and write with noise streaming through the house and also, he's not one of those people who just watches, if I'm anywhere within a sight line, he wants to chat too. That's lovely - but not conducive to writing!
I know that if I want to write, I should go and lock myself away somewhere - but I don't really have that somewhere and often I'll have been sitting happily at the kitchen table, blogging away, or writing in my journal, or whatever, and along he'll come and settle in to the lounge to watch telly. We have terrible reception too - so telly is often accompanied with horrible digital sounds or these kind of, well, popping sort of sounds, through the speakers. I find it really unsettling and difficult to focus or relax with that sound invading my space. Oh well, the joys of shared living I guess.
Anyway. Off to golf he's gone. Now that I have had a chance to digest the information, it's just fine. It's just the waking up to it and being taken by surprise by it that throws me off. I tried not to seem upset or to harp on about it. I feel like I've said so many times that I don't like it. He must have remembered last night as he was going to bed that he was going. I'm certain he must have had to set an alarm. What would be wrong with just saying at that point - hey - did I tell you I'm playing golf tomorrow, far from home, and leaving early? Would that be hard?
*sigh*
I guess I just need to adjust my attitude. It's easier to change my own expectations rather than hope to change anybody else!
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