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Hard times.

August 8, 2015
My life and hard times.

My life and hard times.

August 6, 2015

Last night when P. walked into the kitchen she said she had spent 3 hours with some needy friends of hers and she wanted a glass of wine. When I told her it was gone, she asked about the small amount remaining yesterday in a bottle in the cupboard. I said I had drunk it that afternoon. “God damn you! God damn you!” she shouted at me. “You drank the whole thing since yesterday, didn’t you?” I had to answer, “yes.”
I felt really hurt by her curses and, since I would be cooking hamburgers for us two, I went out and sat by the grill. A few minutes later she apologized for cursing at me, and I murmured that I accepted her apology. She was getting something from the car. As she walked back by she apologized again, saying she was really sorry. I said that I accepted her apology.
Only I was still feeling stung.
We held hands some after we went to bed, but I scooted clear over and we didn’t touch much all night. At one point I got up and looked at Facebook, about 1 a.m. This morning I pretended to be asleep when she got up. At noon things weren’t much better. She left for work again about 40 minutes before she needed to be there. I wanted to tell her that I had wanted to throw a tantrum last night when I went out to cook the hamburgers, but I was too tired. Instead, I told her today that a good thing about feeling so tired is that I can sit and look at the dirt on the back of the electric fan for a long time. I think this did not amuse her, or something, because she said “no comment.” Then she announced she was returning to work but would take the bedsheets off the clothesline first. So the birds wouldn’t poop on them.
Bottom line:
I think P is worried about the way I can put away a whole 750ml bottle of wine in one evening. She doesn’t like that I’m sedentary, lazy, and that I like to sit around. She usually treats me friendlier when I return from work or after times when I get out and exercise. She likes it when I do something.
In turn, I am worried about P because she refused to go to any church services with me, refused to go to the family reunion, likes to keep a low profile, and be a wall flower. She doesn’t want me to post pictures of her or her mention her name on Facebook. To me, it feels like she is becoming a recluse.
My imagination is at work about why she might feel that way.

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