tonight after work my singular goal was to get my garlic in the ground. while i’m at it, DW says, toss in some onions. i shall! i exclaimed. so H and i stopped at the local hardware and picked up the bag of onion starts and headed to the garden.
the garage is very much the man-space. the husband is quite the tinker-er, so there are all kinds of things taking up space with which he can tink. I have a small little cart with my gardening tools and that’s pretty much it. so i dug into my little cart and in the process of finding my spade and trowel, the wall hanging that gathers our grocery sacks (thank you ikea) comes CRASHING down. on my left middle finger. nail. ouch.
i may or may not have introduced the little boy to a few words i prefer not make it into his vernacular.
my initial thought (after @#$%)? that this was somehow my husband’s fault. now, i should retell the story with the minor details: a) he is currently in columbus for a conference. b) he’s been so busy being superhusband that the hasn’t indulged in any recent tinkering and c) i had just attempted to rehang the said bag-holder just seconds before it’s aforementioned crashing.
so after some near-tears, i had a few angry thoughts toward the husband. i told myself that it was not he who hung the ikea contraption and refrained from cursing his good name. but again on the way to bookclub i had the urge to call and let him know how his incompetency had led to my finger pain. i was able to refrain. but still again, when i whined to him about the achy finger, there was a brief yet overwhelming urge to point out that this somehow was traced to his actions.
i’m not sure how i reached this point, but i’m not entirely thrilled about it. i don’t want to be that bratty. i don’t want to live with a sense that nothing is my fault or that it is the responsibility of those around me to make sure that nothing bad ever comes my way. sometimes containers full of grocery sacks make their marks on fingernails. it’s just the way the world works (DW would lovingly point out the inter-workings of gravity).
my question is this: how DO you just get over yourself? how do i help myself realize that no one thinks about me nearly as much as i do? how do i keep in mind that it’s not the job of others to keep me happy?
on a better note, it’s time to be a bit proud of the bobcats. we still have 7:22 to go, but wow. however, i will admit, i’m not a “true” fan. i wasn’t able to name a single player on the team until i turned on the game. but i think alumni status puts at a fair-weather exemption status.