Where did it go..?

Seriously…  Every so often I look around and think “what the Hell!  Where did those hours go?”

It can be utterly perplexing; this weekend is almost half way through and I’ve achieved nothing.   I’ve stripped my bed and washed the bedding but that’s about it.  The bare pillows and doona are lying in a haphazard heap in the centre of the bed.  I’ve walked past and looked several times (pausing twice to spray Frebreeze) but I haven’t even fished out clean linen yet.  Worse, the clock is ticking and I hate making it just before I go to bed so I’ll need to get to it at some stage!

I had such high hopes and plans too!  Not about making the bed because let’s face it; the house is always neat and pretty much clean.  I could switch off doing housework for a week and no one would even notice.   It’s not even the lack of the vacuum cleaner echoing across the floorboards that is upsetting me.  It is the writing; or lack thereof.  And I promised myself…

Still, promises or no; sometimes there just isn’t anything left over!  Life gets in the way.

For example; I’ve decided to start job hunting.  And there was my first big mistake.  It’s been ten years since I’ve done any real job hunting so there was an edit and refresh of my cv required.  Then any job that you want to submit an application for these days, somehow requires about four hours of addressing ‘key selection criteria’; which of course means you agonize over every single word.  It takes hours!  They should have to pay you to do that!  Read the damned CV to cull people; don’t expect me to do your work for you!

Two job applications and a phone interview later seemed to take out most of Friday.  What was left of the afternoon had me debating the pros and cons of a new job and actually moving out of town…  Then before I’d even had time to throw my coat off and head upstairs, a friend called over with a bottle of red.  That ended any move towards the computer Friday night; instead we drank steadily and debated the realities of life while eating cabana.  I was going to say we are very different personalities, he and I; but in all honesty, I think everyone on the planet is different to me.

The gist of our conversation was around my blog and he wondered out loud, how the ex had just allowed me to write all of that…  (Allowed..?  Really..?  You really want to go there..?)  Actually he may not have said the word allowed, but I got the drift.  Either way, he couldn’t understand how there hadn’t been humdinger rows over what I wrote.  In fact, if we ever argued over my blog, I don’t recall it but I’m sure we did occasionally.  Generally when his slow boil of outrage got too much to handle, I received one of his scathing, cruel, put down emails.

Still, to my wine guzzling friend, I pointed out that our lack of rowing was due to his lack of care and common sense.  That and the fact that he read my blog as though he was reading about another person; that “damned Moodle” wasn’t him… It was some other poor sap dealing with this ranting witch. 

And then, my ill-fated and somewhat stupid wine infused friend uttered the words, “you are very opinionated you know…” before guzzling his next glass of red.

WTF!!!  Opinionated!  Me???  I already knew I was about to give him my opinion!

But maybe he was right…  And no wonder none of my relationships work!  By this morning, I was tossing and turning, wondering how I could make myself less opinionated.  Was that even possible?

I got up and went to a pump glass and then came home to research (there goes cleaning and writing!).  The first and most interesting site I came to was an advice blog and I speed read through the first letter and I had to admit; this girl did sound rather vaguely like me.  And surprise surprise; her letter was due to the fact that her boyfriend was going to dump her because she didn’t “validate his thoughts” or some such crap.  The blogger’s reply was rather delicious; long and full of descriptive words regarding the said boyfriend with non validated thoughts…  Words like “feewing”…  “Did your opinion hurt his feewings…  Poor baby!”

And suddenly; I got a second wind and realised that yes… I am opinionated; maybe even overly so.  And there were even some websites dedicated to guiding people in abolishing that shocking trait.  It’s easy. 

All you need to do is be INDIFFERENT!

Oh.  My.  God.  And the blinkers fell away as I realised just how ‘chalk and cheese’ the ex and I really were.  He lives in a haze of apathy.  I want to rush to my sword at the first sign of injustice!  Chalk/Cheese.  Oil/Water.  It doesn’t come bigger than us.

So yes.  I can be loud and opinionated.  I call and spade and spade; if I think it… I say it.  And he is probably correct, it was probably hard work for the ex to hear repeatedly that he was a Moodle, or that his kids were ungrateful or ill-mannered or selfish.  I know he spent years hearing about the Harridan and her unbelievable velvet wearing selfishness!  Then again, he could have just fixed it if he wanted me to shut up.

And at that point, I realise a fact that I had missed up until now.  The ex had once ‘loved’ (if that is what he calls it) the Harridan – because she is an overbearing, opinionated bitch.  Then he loved me…  Another overbearing, opinionated bitch.  And let’s face it; he isn’t the smartest tool in the shed (he is just a tool) so the chances are….   You guessed it….  His new lady love will be a “overbearing, opinionated bitch” because that is what he likes!  His body chemistry is protecting him; because it knows he is a balless wonder, so it deliberately looks for a Joan of Arc!

So...  Comfortable in my opinionated skin, I emailed my friend this afternoon to tell him I think I’ll just be staying exactly the way I am and if someone doesn’t like it; they can lump it! Okay... Okay... he suggested I attempt to be a little more subtle; and maybe I will... Try it that is.

Dating update:  Tomorrow is date two with the Scottish Lab Manager.  How perfectly he is playing it.  Not ‘in my face’ or ‘stalking/contacting’ all the time; but answering pretty quickly when I contact.  Not making out he is sitting there pining for me and awaiting my contact; but open and pleased to receive it.  Yes, he is playing it so perfectly that I’m almost looking forward to it. 

Hope he likes ‘overbearing, opinionated bitches’ lol