It’s been a stressful few months. Today and tomorrow are snow days and it’s been nice to just sit and put off work. Yes, I could be hanging pictures or organizing paperwork, or (shudder) going through the giant stack of mail that has accumulated in the last 3 weeks, but I’m not going to so there.
Phew. I can’t believe it’s February. I feel like I’ve been in a fog since October. First there was Chris’s long and arduous job interview process. There were so many emotional ups and downs that I thought therapy was going to be needed. For me, that is. But, he got the job and is doing awesome work for a school district and is finally, finally, enjoying his employment with a big boy salary too boot.
Because we’re smart people at this time, we decided to start looking for a dog to adopt and when we found a corgi mix named Benny who looked like this: I know, right? We said yes, thank you, we’ll take him please to the adoption program volunteers and two days before Chris started his new job we hopped in the car and drove two hours to get him. I can now say with certainty the following two things :
1. I will never adopt a dog that is 6 months old ever again. I didn’t kill him because his cuteness is overwhelming.
2. I really love my dog now.
Adopting a puppy two days before my husband started his brand new job was really stupid. That said, sleepless nights, stressful puppy behaviors, completely altering our schedules and plans, stressing myself out about being a good dog parent- are quickly fading. I still freak out about being a good dog parent. See “The Scarf Incident”. Dog chews up clothes, I think he eats a whole shirt, crying emergency speeding to the vet. Turns out he just ate pieces of my favorite scarf, threw them up in the middle of the night and is fine. There was still a lot of panicking on my part. This was last week. Aaaaaanyway.
So Chris got a new job and we got a puppy we were not quite equipped to handle. And about two weeks into Benny owning there was “The Time it Rained from the Ceiling”. That, dear reader, is when the tenant three floors above you decides to vacuum their utility closet and break their water heater thus, flooding you.I was sick, tired, stressed about my dog, and suddenly there was water pouring into our cluttered one bedroom apartment. I don’t think I’ve ever sobbed that hard in my life. Chris came home to me, I believe, sitting on a dry patch on the floor weeping into my dog’s neck.
This moment became the moment of “I can’t loud, tiny apartment any more especially not if it will be raining”. So we decided to break our lease and move. And move we did the first week of January. That debacle will have to wait for later story-telling. Let’s just say it was also the most effed up move/event thus far. Good news: my house no longer smells like cat urine and I actually like where I live.
But yes, it’s been a busy few months. Work for me has been stressful. Home has been stressful. And through all this my husband has been steady, wonderful Chris. I can’t say the same for me. I haven’t been the best spouse. I haven’t lost my sense of humor, so I still have a ways to fall, I think, but it hasn’t been my best 4 months.The other day I realized we haven’t even been married a year yet. Shock. Not because we’re unhappy, but just because circumstances have been ridiculous and it feels like I’ve lived 3 years fast forward.
There was a time, about a year before I met my husband, that all the stressful life stuff I detailed above would have sent me over the edge. I sat once in a psychologists office, weepy and depressed and so upset by my absolute lack of control in my circumstances that I just wanted to quit school and sleep in my room forever. I think I felt ebbs and flows of this the last few months, but when you have someone to ground you, to make you laugh, and to let you cry hysterically about the water pouring into your apartment– it helps. A lot. Knowing you have someone in your corner, that if all your stuff is wet and damaged and the house you are going to rent is a hazmat situation and you may just have to sleep on the curb but god damn you sure aren’t going to be sopping wet or curb sleeping on your own- well, that makes you, or me, see it all for what it is. Stupid. Circumstantial. Stress.
Not exactly what you want for your first year of marriage, but then again, that isn’t really our first year of marriage. It’s just stuff that happened. Nobody died. Nobody was hurt. It’s all ok. Took me a awhile to loosen the bone and back away from the metaphorical cliff, but I realize now, it’s ok.
If someone were to ask me my advice on marriage, (Ha! No one ever has. So, I’m just going to tell you because I can.) I would say be sure to find someone who will make you laugh, laugh, laugh no matter what. That, I think, can get you through anything.
Oh, and it helps if he/she is a looker, too. But that’s just me being shallow.