We borrowed a friend's pickup truck today and went a-courtin'. No, we spent about 3+ hours hauling our old sofa, desk, and chair to new homes, and then going to purchase a friend's leather sofa and chairs and haul them back to our home. The first sign of trouble: the tailgate doesn't come down so we had to lift some very heavy crap into the stratosphere to get it into the truck. And it's hot. And we have the kidlets. And sh!t doesn't fit through doors and up stairs as it should. Blah, blah.
With anyone else, we would be fairly courteous and good-natured, even laughing about some things... I longed for that, actually, dared to hope we might have some fun. But because it's us? We are irritable and b*tchy with each other, culminating in back pain, dinged wrists, smooshed feet, scraped walls, a dented front door, and The Husband slamming the storm door open so far he rips the hardware from the frame.
Why? Because he's pissed at me. Why? Because "we don't communicate well". Why? Because "we're not on the same wavelength". Why? Because he doesn't love me and wants to be with she-who-shall-not-be-named.
No, I made that last one up, the others are his actual words. But do you see how my Personal Slippery Slope of Inadequacy and Rejection Fear works when there is any tension between us? It compounds our relationship issues by a factor of Infinity. Even over moving a sofa. [Insert primal scream here]
