Stressful day today with some government / immigration stuff. i had a serious fuck-it moment earlier, not one that would lead me to drink, but it could have led me to bed. instead, i went for a very angry walk in the rain sans umbrella (yeah, i was that mad). i prepared a speech i was going to dish out to my husband about stepping up and protecting me from the stupidness of our adopted country (because he speaks the language and i am not fluent).
then i remembered an email exchange with a team 100 member who told me about what it was like to be married to a controlling wife. le sigh. does my husband think i’m controlling? how would he respond if i came barging back into the house and said “you must deal with this, you fucker” (i had slightly better words planned, but not really).
i married someone. he’s adorable. and he is who he is. And despite what soap operas and romcom movies may tell me, i cannot change him to be a different kind of man. he’s his kind of man.
i did think in a fleeting way, “i’ll just drink and give all this up and we can move home…” No, not really. But i’d like a fucking numb button, please. What would i tell someone else to do … go for a walk in the pouring cold rain sans umbrella, come home, and get to work fixing the problem. Do not speak to husband until you’re sure you can say something nice.
i did that.
I need to figure out lemon layer cake with layers of cake and lemon curd that is stiff enough to slice into baby cakes for a catering job next week, since I put it in the proposal, the guy said yes, and I’ve never made it before …
Drink? Are you fucking kidding me? Even if i want to, in some kind of abstract way, who has TIME for that nonsense.