Just remember I'm just getting back into this. But seriously, what happened to old-fashioned hot water bottles? Have people become allergic to rubber? Are hotels worried about frivolous wet-bed lawsuits?
Cold Sheets? Hire a Human Bed Warmer.
This just gives me the serious ick. And not just because I keep imagining these young hotel employees farting under the covers.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
What a difference a year makes...
Or not.
First of all, I was touched by all the responses to my last post. I'm amazed that anyone even realized this blog was still standing - and I was touched to know you were wondering about me. I've been thinking about you all, too. And I started to write some posts at different points over the last year and I realized I wasn't sure what to say. So I remained quiet. I told myself I was reflecting but the truth is I'm just a big chicken.
So now what I've been avoiding: the update. And unfortunately, the news is not very different from last year.
What's changed? Well, MAJ Dick returned from deployment. He immediately moved into the guest room. And there he's remained since (though he's left his dresser and most of his crap in the master bedroom, mostly to annoy me, I'd imagine). It was hard going for a long while. Not a crier by any stretch of the imagine, I sobbed like a little girl every day for longer than I care to admit. We were about as ugly as two people can be to each other and still remain speaking.
I believe we've gotten through most of the ugliness. The accusations of not caring, of deliberate sabotage and infidelity. I think we've put aside most of the blaming. I don't know if that's maturation or just plain exhaustion. At this point, I'm not sure I need to know the answer. As ever, we try to be careful around our son and make sure our problems never affect him. And we've made some attempts at marriage counseling, when we can get an appointment (that's a whole 'nother rant right there).
I wish I could say different but we are more strangers than partners. We orbit each other from different universes, only crossing paths for that shared satellite, our son. We are civil - and we work hard to be - and we both say we want to try to work out this marriage if we can. I think we even both mean it. But we never touch, we rarely laugh and share only our son. I know that marriage is often more about enduring than enjoying, that you have to fight through tough times, but I just don't know if it's enough. As obnoxious as it may sound, I'd like to have sex again before I turn 40.
Our time in Germany is almost up. Once the orders come, depending on where MAJ Dick ends up, I plan to make a decision one way or the other, end this limbo. I don't know what that will be yet but I hope it's one we can all live with. I keep waiting for a sign but I think what's really needed is for me to try to shake off some of the fear and just finally act.
And with that incredibly depressing update, it's probably time to get back to the snarkiness. That's what the world needs more of. I just know it.
First of all, I was touched by all the responses to my last post. I'm amazed that anyone even realized this blog was still standing - and I was touched to know you were wondering about me. I've been thinking about you all, too. And I started to write some posts at different points over the last year and I realized I wasn't sure what to say. So I remained quiet. I told myself I was reflecting but the truth is I'm just a big chicken.
So now what I've been avoiding: the update. And unfortunately, the news is not very different from last year.
What's changed? Well, MAJ Dick returned from deployment. He immediately moved into the guest room. And there he's remained since (though he's left his dresser and most of his crap in the master bedroom, mostly to annoy me, I'd imagine). It was hard going for a long while. Not a crier by any stretch of the imagine, I sobbed like a little girl every day for longer than I care to admit. We were about as ugly as two people can be to each other and still remain speaking.
I believe we've gotten through most of the ugliness. The accusations of not caring, of deliberate sabotage and infidelity. I think we've put aside most of the blaming. I don't know if that's maturation or just plain exhaustion. At this point, I'm not sure I need to know the answer. As ever, we try to be careful around our son and make sure our problems never affect him. And we've made some attempts at marriage counseling, when we can get an appointment (that's a whole 'nother rant right there).
I wish I could say different but we are more strangers than partners. We orbit each other from different universes, only crossing paths for that shared satellite, our son. We are civil - and we work hard to be - and we both say we want to try to work out this marriage if we can. I think we even both mean it. But we never touch, we rarely laugh and share only our son. I know that marriage is often more about enduring than enjoying, that you have to fight through tough times, but I just don't know if it's enough. As obnoxious as it may sound, I'd like to have sex again before I turn 40.
Our time in Germany is almost up. Once the orders come, depending on where MAJ Dick ends up, I plan to make a decision one way or the other, end this limbo. I don't know what that will be yet but I hope it's one we can all live with. I keep waiting for a sign but I think what's really needed is for me to try to shake off some of the fear and just finally act.
And with that incredibly depressing update, it's probably time to get back to the snarkiness. That's what the world needs more of. I just know it.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Yoo-hoo! Anybody out there?
I was reading back over some of my old posts to help me write an essay. And I realized I miss this place...
I think it's time to pick the pen back up - or, er, the mouse, at least. Let's see if I have anything of value to say after more than a year away.
I think it's time to pick the pen back up - or, er, the mouse, at least. Let's see if I have anything of value to say after more than a year away.
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