The problem with me is that I'm an unreliable narrator.
Also, I tend to say "the thing about me," or "the problem with me" - as if there's THE thing or THE problem. But saying "A problem with me" just doesn't work. Plus, being an unreliable narrator, whatever the problem is at the time is THE problem.
At least I recognize this. Which makes it less of a problem. Or the problem.
I recently wrote this post about how Nick is all ambley and smell the rosey and it drives me crazy because I am so not.
And then someone commented about that time I got caught sticking my nose in someone's bush. And I was thinking, well, yeah, but those were lilacs. I always have to smell the lilacs.
But I do stop and smell the roses. I just do it quickly. Walkwalkwalk, stop briefly, stick nose in rose, walkwalkwalk.
Not the same. In my mind.
But the thing about me is that whatever I am feeling at the moment is absolutely how things are. So when I'm cold, I can't even remember what it's like to be warm. And then once I'm warm, I forget about the dread cold.
(This leads Nick to say that I have a very temporal approach to the world. I didn't connect this type of thing with an inability to have a 10-year plan, but actually, it all ties together.)
So the other day, Nick addressed me as "Lisa" - which he rarely does. I pointed this out.
And he said, "What I never call you is 'Lis'."
"No. And in your blog, you always have me calling you 'Lis.' And I don't."
He was clearly annoyed by the misrepresentation.
While I do hang on his every word, clearly I miss a few here and there. Because the fact is, he has plenty of nicknames for me, but never calls me Lis.
So if you're reading back through any old posts in which I relay conversation with Nick, please do as follows: Anywhere you see "Lis" please insert "Honey Chinese Cheese."
For this I have no explanation. And that's the gosh-darned truth.