So maybe you have an argument with your spouse.
An insanely heated, would come to fisticuffs - if you were that sort of people - fight, while walking down the street.
Even though one of you is twice as big as the other, you are people with equal amounts of intensity, and a comparable ability to hold your ground. If emotional intensity and stubbornness could be measured or sized, your enormity would match almost precisely.
And when you get that upset, you lose sight of whether you are right or not. Or reason in general.
So the very bad terrible fight? Worthy of blocks of violent, swirling, caustic magenta vitriol?
About the upcoming temporary location of your upcoming washing machine and dryer.
Kid you not.
I won't bore you with details, but will simply say that the options are either the basement - where the current hook-up is. Or the second floor, where we ultimately want them. But where water- and gas-line work will need to be done to install them. Holes will need to be cut in walls. Things like that.
I was certain Nick wanted them in the basement purely to inconvenience me. Not because, for the time being, it's practical, because we'll actually be able to, um, use them.
He wanted me to have to regularly haul my big belly plus laundry into dark, creepy scariness (it is, I assure you). To lumber down increasingly difficult stairs.
When the reasonable choice would be to have both delivered straight upstairs. And then just wait (and possibly wait and wait) until a plumber would be able to fully install them both.
I must say that I have never taken such an extreme and volatile position on appliances in my life.
This continued until about a block from home, at which point I stopped and began crying. HYSterically.
Wailing. Sobbing. All the way down the block. Past pedestrians. Into the lobby. Up the stairs. Down the hall. In the door. Straight to the bathroom - the only spot with any privacy at all.
And after a period of the kind of violent, ragged, utterly despondent sobbing that necessitates a towel rather than just a tissue, I finally calmed down enough to realize and articulate this:
It's not about the fucking washing machine. I want my dad back.
And now, after a night of sleep and a morning of distance, I've also realized the following:
It really doesn't make a difference to me where we put the washer and dryer when we move in.
Nick's the one doing all the laundry lately.
I Love You Lisa.ReplyDelete
Ah, thank you, Lynn! :)ReplyDelete
Lisa, if only I could give you a big hug. And maybe pat Nick on the shoulder. He seems like a good man.ReplyDelete
It's not fair, is it? No matter how much you rationalize it, and try to understand and cope, in the end, you are left with your feelings. They're your feelings (and there's nothing wrong with transfering them into hatred for appliances). But any way you look at it, it's not f**** ing fair!ReplyDelete
I am so very sorry that this is still fresh and sharp and ragged for you. Hugs
Dude. The stubbornness? The intensity? The emotion? The irrationality? Totally just described me and Shawn. It is exhausting, yes? And so, SO pointless. And yet ... nothing is more important than where the washer and dryer will go, in that moment.ReplyDelete
I'm glad the moment has passed and you can write about your fight with humour. You two crack me up :)
You know, I had a very similar confrontation this weekend. And I, too, lost sight of who was right and who was wrong (um, me). And I, too, thought "Selfish! Asshole!" to myself, in exactly that way.ReplyDelete
And all I can say is, these things happen, and that there are reasons for them, and...
You're strong, intense and beautiful, Lisa. Thanks for sharing this with us! A big, Dallas-sized hug for you!ReplyDelete
I want your Dad back for you, too. On a completely different note, 2nd floor laundry room is the best.ReplyDelete
The thing that sets off the irrational flow of emotion is never the real cause, at least it never seems to be with me. Now I really have to sit down and write my completely hysterical and irrational IKEA story.ReplyDelete
We had the same argument. Same situation. You could watch us from a distance digging in, fortifying the trenches. Ypres, Antwerp, Marne; they were nothing compared to our epic battle. In the end, I just put the damn things in -- lost my closet space, etc. Why? Because I enjoy eating a $6,500.00 bill (plumbing, drywall, marble flooring, etc.) and regularly washed shirts. But she does all the laundry. Justice, it would seem, appears on her own timetable.ReplyDelete
I was going to say, if Nick's not been doing the laundry lately, something's very, very wrong. I hope I was suppose to laugh at this, yanno, except for the one part. Laughter through tears is some of the best.ReplyDelete
I'm so glad to hear that Hubby and I are normal!! :) And that I displace things on Hubby too!! I know you're going through such a difficult time that I can't even relate to, but I am still thinking of you!ReplyDelete
I just stumbled upon your blog and really liked this post (even if wasn't the most upbeat entry of the moment)> It's got me browsing your other entries. Anyway, just wanted to say hi as I stalk your pad and to keep up the posting. Good stuff.ReplyDelete
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This reminds me of an argument I once witnessed between two of my room mates. They spent more than an hour arguing... they were both physically and emotionally into the argument with all sorts of hand waving and shaking fists in the air and the volume... *loud*ReplyDelete
The argument was over what wattage light bulb should go in the light over our kitchen table.
I spent the time laughing at them... afterward, we went out for some pizza.
Dammit! I wrote a reply to each and every one of these...and it never turned up! Blogger makes me so mad when it does that.ReplyDelete
Girl With Curious Hair - I appreciate that. Nick is a good, good man.
Susan - No, it's not fair and not fair and not fucking fair. I hate it. Hugs back to you, too.
Hillary - We are absolutely on the same page. Nothing is more important in that moment. Nothing.
Dagny - Whether you're right or wrong, you know I'll always back you up. And join you in the Selfish! Asshole! chorus when need be.
Jo - You are awesome. And I feel extra-special, because everything is bigger in Texas, no? :)
Fearless - No, not the real cause, and you're lucky if you figure out the real cause fast. And IKEA story, please!
Anonymous - Wow, very similar. And if this were permanent, we would be in the trenches for quite some time to come. But it's temporary, thankfully.
FoggyDew - No, he's a good, good man. Plus he does laundry compulsively. And happy and sad are so closely related, no?
Jules - I have to giggle thinking that we would be your normal gauge. Awesome! And thank you!
Mb - Thank you. I appreciate it. I'm not the most upbeat lately, though, just so you know.
VVK - Hahahaha! I can totally relate!
I'm sure this is completely off topic but as an interior decorator, I have a word of advice. If you plan to finish your basement, do not put your washer and dryer upstairs. If there is ever a leak, you will not only have to replace the floor they are sitting on, but anything underneath that floor, including ceiling, furniture, carpet etc.ReplyDelete
Nothing like a good vent to clear out the sinuses huh?ReplyDelete
Hugs to you and a well done Nick for standing up and giving you the opportunity to get rid of some of the anger. If he had given in to you you wouldnt have been able to blow off steam as such.
Sounds like the fight was cathartic, which can be a good thing. And God bless our husbands. I haven't done laundry in months, either.ReplyDelete