Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Of Lights and Chairs and Bathroom Bins

No, this is not a home furnishings review.  This is war.  This is what The Man and I go around and around and around about.  This is "he-drives-me-crazy-whens" and "she-needs-to-watch-herselfs."  This is what marriage is.  Or what our marriage is anyway.

I do something--or don't do something--that makes The Man spitting mad.  When I am standing at the bathroom sink getting ready in the morning or after my evening shower, I use a Kleenex for whatever needs to be done, and then I toss it in the general direction of the trash can, you know, generally to the left and down just out of sight.  But sometimes the bin is rather full, and the Kleenex bounces out and lands on the floor next to the bin, sort of behind the toilet, and definitely not where The Man wants it.  So he gets after me to watch where I'm throwing things every single time I need to dispose of a simple Kleenex or Q-tip.  If it was a snotty Kleenex, sure, I can understand why he gets up in a huff, but grab an unused corner and assume I meant for it to go in the bin.  I'll try to do better next time.  (Nevermind that taking out the garbage is his job.)

It's not all rosebuds and lollipops living with The Man either.  I don't know if it's a "cannot" or a "will not," but he has ever-so-rarely pushed in a chair or turned off a light.  Maybe it is his stubborn streak refusing to cooperate.  Maybe he just doesn't care about our power bill or my stumbling-into-chairs problem.  I don't know what his problem is, but this is one fight from which I won't back down.  Every time he doesn't push in his desk chair, I have to move it just to get to my desk--impossible with both of my hands full with a project or breakfast or something else.  When he doesn't push in his dining chair, I have to move it to get to the piano.  These chairs are in the way.  We don't have the space luxury to not push in a chair.

Apparently he's never heard of task lighting either.  We have two Ott lights, several lamps, and plenty of cozy reading spots.  What does he choose?  The overhead light and his desk chair.  The crappiest lighting we have that casts the most horrific shadows and sallow color on everything it touches.  Even with new (stupid) lightbulbs, the lighting in there is atrocious.  If we open the window on a very sunny day, turn on the overhead light, and both Ott lights, we can only marginally fix the lighting in that room.  It's bad bad.  Just don't turn it on in the first place.  Use task lighting.  Use a flashlight.  Use something, anything else that you will remember to turn off at the end of the session.  (I'm not talking about quick trips out of the room to get food or pee, I'm talking about leaving the room to watch a movie or go to work or something.  There is some rational thought to my request.)

I don't think his request for me to be a little more careful is unwarranted.  I'm trying.  I really, really am.  He hasn't had to remind me in months to pick anything up or watch where I'm throwing things in the bathroom.  I also don't think my request for him to push in chairs or turn off lights is all that crazy.  Are we both nuts?  Or is this just how marriage is?

1 comment:

Jules said...

It's marriage. You learn to give a little, take a little. Over time you learn you can't change him, you can only change you. When he's gone for days, weeks, sometimes what seems months, at a time, you kind of miss the annoying habits. Not that you would want them back, just that they can become part of life.