All’s Fair…

To be fair, my stress levels are running on high at the moment.  Work sucks; a bunch of interlopers hover on the peripheral of our circled wagons, firing flaming arrows at us.  They’ve hit a few, but some of us have hunkered down… Ready for a fight. 

I find it hard to shut off when one area of my life is caving in.  I’d find it just as hard to concentrate at work if my love life was teetering on the edge.  So I’m in a constant state of high stress, which I am attempting to keep within the hours of 9-5; I'm not always successful at this.

Last night, after 54 episodes of The Shield (which I will admit, I had instigated the watching of the last one by saying: “just one more…” – but Hell, they left it on a cliff hanger!) Anyhow, the Squeeze didn’t put up a fight so it was late to bed. 

Although it is early days in our living together, I am stressing about our existence which appears to be basically in front of the television.  That and the fact that after one week, he sees me as a ‘comfortable old slipper’ – and can’t understand why I find this analogy totally and mind-blowingly offensive.

Last year in February, someone asked me about a show and my reply was “I don’t know. I actually haven’t watched any television yet this year…”  I play music.  I cook and play music.  How can I go from that, to this?  And there is so much of it!  It is a never ending list of must watch shows!!

Last night before falling asleep I muttered that maybe we should invoke a meal rule.  No television.  Eat at the table like civilised people; with music.  He agreed and this mollified me to some extent, but the trick will be in keeping the damned box switched off until after dinner and dishes.

So after a fretful night sleep, worrying about work and television and being a mouldy old slipper, I was frazzled while getting ready for work.  I stuffed up the making of our coffee which was so strong it could have killed a black dog – not to mention the fact that it escalated my nerves as the caffeine hit my system.  

The Squeeze put on some music which I figured would shut my mind off for a moment and give me some peace - instead, it turned out to be one of those horrendous jazz things he loves and which I find absolutely grating!  Nails down a blackboard grating!!! It’s just a bunch of instruments all vying for attention at the one time and if I had to get through one more bar of it, I knew I would put my foot through his ipod!

In fact, his taste in music is one of the things I love about him.  Not the jazz bit, never that; but the rest is pretty damned good.  Still, this morning I shouted that he shouldn’t be allowed to drive an ipod.  That was after my tantrum that someone had stolen my belt, before finding it in the laundry.  Then the coffee almost killed me and quite possibly could have passed as draino.  Then discovering that I’ve gained back about 3 of the 4 kilo I had lost.  And then I walk into the bedroom, I find a poltergeist has been; either that or the Squeeze only learned how to open a drawer or wardrobe door – not close the freaking thing!

This morning while having a real cup of coffee at work; I realised I was sitting here actually wondering how I could rig up a 12 volt battery with little leads running up to the wardrobe door handle to give a mild buzz when he opened his side of the wardrobe.  Just a reminder...  Door open.  Door close.  Kind of like those groovy dog collars that buzz on their barker box, a little reminder not to dig there or bite that or chew those shoes.  And then I had to wonder about his stupid dicky heart, and how much voltage I should use.  I wanted to remind him, not actually kill him.

It was then that I realised; he is actually driving me mad.