188: The Dangers of Amnesia

The last week or so has been good. The environment has been calmer, almost fun. She went off to Brussels for a weekend with one of her mates and had a good time - the sort of thing I have been recommending for months.

Couple of weekends ago, she was out getting her hair done or something and I had gone to drop our son off at a school game. I could have done the weekly shop on the way back but of course I am not qualified to do so - being incompetent and all.

So, time goes and procrastination happens, the tension and time pressure builds. I have done what I need to do and am watching some TV. This clearly makes her angry as has chores to do - I have offered to help but I am not good enough to be be of any help!

Desperate for something / anything to have me do, she says, 'The garage desperately needs cleaning and there's loads of stuff to take to the dump,' in that crotchety, angry voice.

I had actually tidied the garage and it was fine - but I did not argue. I went downstairs and picked up three small items for the dump - her 'loads of stuff'. I confirmed with her that this was all there was. But I didn't mind - actually it got me out of the house and away from her for a little while.

This is petty I know. But it grates and the volume picks up until it begins to weigh heavily. And then comes a week or two of peace and I begin to forget - and consider myself silly for thinking the thoughts I do about leaving. But, as she herself has said to me many times, true characters do not change.

As she was leaving for Brussels, she appeared to say that I could fold the clothes that were hanging on the rack? 'I am allowed to fold the clothes - have I been promoted?!' Trying to make a point in a fun way.

'No, you have not. You put the clothes in the basket, but you can fold the racks. You have not been promoted to folding clothes and loading the dishwasher.'

Nuff said really. All about control and making the other feel incompetent. Cannot forget.

187: Taking the steps to the cusp

The Saturday just gone.

From the previous week she had been telling me that she would be going out to a recital on the Saturday evening. No problem.

Come Friday evening, she has had a bad week at work - more of that later. She has been going on incessantly about this recital.

We go to Parkrun on Saturday morning, and I say that I know - as a man - I am just supposed to listen, and I have. But a colleague once told me that in 30 years of work he could look back on maybe three years where all was good - enjoying work, being valued. I was just starting off my work life at that time and found that to be extremely depressing. Now, in my thirty years, I would say I have had maybe 7 years. So, frustration and all that is part and parcel, and you have to go with it. It was a reasonable conversation and the day progressed.

It was also our son's first day of half-term holidays, and he was, of course, on his PS4. Suddenly she gets into one of her rants about too much time on that and he has to do something else and so on and so on. Separately, I say to her that it is his first day of holidays ... 'but you will be working in the week, and he will play all day.' He is a conscientious bloke overall - even if he does play too much on the PS4 - and does not play in the week during term time and did pretty well in his summer exams. From next month, he will have two hours of driving lessons on a Sunday and probably sport on Saturday morning and so, along with homework, PS4 will reduce anyway.

'It's a nice day and we should have gone out. But I knew you would not be interested.'

'This is not on me,' I respond. 'For the last week you have been saying that you will be going to a recital, then this morning you said you would meet a friend. Neither of those happened through your choice and it is not possible to adjust constantly and instantly to your needs.' And I said it loudly - hopefully my son heard.

But then I found a film at the cinema that none of us was really interested in and asked my son to come with us - explained to him that sometimes we have to do things for others and thanked him for his understanding.

This sort of thing is not new though - see towards the bottom of the 2012 (!) entry.

As for work, yes, her boss is difficult. But she signed up for 52 weeks and now all I hear is how she should be allowed to take time off in lieu of half-hour lunch breaks. And how, physically, she cannot cope.

I have sympathy but this is a new boss. Be good, build a relationship and then look for flexibility. And as for the physical discomfort of getting into a new car and driving for thirty minutes each way - good thing she did not have to commute for one hour and a half each way for decades.

I had always considered that she was good with the rewards of work (money) but objected to having to do it. Some references I have seen from younger days basically say that she turned up - no initiative, no going the extra mile. 

I desperately hope I am wrong as my leaving will be easier if she is working well and earning. But I am almost there - do I wait for her 50th in January '23 or not?

186: FOMO

 This last weekend was a bit of a classic in terms of how her mind works.

An aunt of mine came to stay and arrived very late on Friday evening.

She was meeting her grown up kids and their partners in Central London for lunch and invited us. I sort of assumed our son would not go and so I said 'no' and my wife also did as she said she plenty of errands, needed to get her hair cut and apply for a couple of jobs, as she is unhappy at work right now.

However, my son actively enjoys the kids' company and so he says he would like to come and so I say we will join my aunt. Immediately, my wife, obviously suffering from Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) decides she can come as well.

Get back late on Saturday evening. Sunday morning I go to the gym for a bit and then prepare lunch for everyone. 

As I am not trusted with shopping, she does the shopping, with me along as porter. I pack everything away, run further errands and then my neighbour suggests a couple of beers at our local pub. Suddenly, a couple more errands arise - but I do them and head out. (Of course, I do not strip the bed properly and bring down the wrong thing for the wash - but, hey, what can you do with incompetence!)

I come back, our son has made his own dinner - I load the dishwasher - and neither of us is hungry after a heavy lunch. Only now does she sit down to start her job applications.

And I have no doubt whatsoever that she is thinking that she has been ever so busy and no time for herself. In reality, she could have had the whole afternoon in an empty house on Saturday and, failing that, had she thought me a little competent, most of Sunday.

Instead, she is in a mood and we are walking on eggshells. There was no confrontation as I let many other petty remarks pass.

But this thinking about her and what might upset her has been the constant refrain of my life - when is the 'when' when I walk?

185: Two pounds fucking fifty ...

This is a bit like 'on the cusp' ..

Our son has gone to a music festival and we are due to pick him up from the station at about 11 - not sure exactly when.

We set off far too early instead of waiting for a call and are parked on the street for forty-five minutes ... no problem with that.

Then we get a message that he is five minutes away and so I drive down to the station car park ... she decides that paying £2.50 is uneconomic and so we have to go round the block and find another spot nearby.

None of that is really an issue and the extra walk is about three minutes - but saving £2.50 ... really?! When there is virtually no economy made anywhere else?

It is all about petty control.

I bring down a particular pyrex dish to put something away, she wants another one. I want to do some specific shopping today and she suddenly has the need to do some tomorrow and I should wait till then.

One evening she specifically asks me to wipe down a particular part of the worktop - next to the sink. I do as requested and go upstairs for the evening. But clearly not to her satisfaction. 'Don't worry, you don't need to come down.' 'What for?' 'For cleaning the side of the sink - I will do it.' Passive-aggressive?!

Then, I do make a mistake. I had taken her passport in the side pocket of my shorts as ID to collect something for her. Despite reminding myself several times, I had not put the passport back in its usual place and it remained in the pocket when I placed the shorts in the washing basket. She must have found it when placing the wash - thankfully. 'You have my passport - do you know where you have kept it.' I remembered, and realised straight away that she was being passive aggressive again and said, 'in my pocket and you have found it.' My mistake and at least no blow-up I suppose. I should have but did not apologise and nor was one demanded.

Our lovely cleaner comes on Friday mornings and the guest room - where I sleep in the week - is cleared out by my wife in preparation. (But surely our cleaner is not so stupid that she does not understand that we sleep apart!) But seven, seven, pairs of shoes lie around in the hall! I can only imagine the lecture I would have got had I been the culprit.

I did a half-marathon last Sunday. Its finish was not so far from our place and I said that I expected to arrive at about 12:15 or 12:30. It turns out I start a little early and finish quicker than I thought and am done by 12.

I ring. 'We are about to set off,' she says. And the journey she was planning would have taken at least fifty minutes to an hour. So I walk to our friend's house where we are meeting for lunch.

I don't mind that she and our son were not there at the finish. I really could not care less. But is it not, at some level, evidence of a lack of care?

If she were reading this, she would say that she had had to do the weekly shop on Sunday morning - when shops do not open till 11.

And that is quite right. But I had offered to do that on the Saturday and been told that I could not / must not!!!

As I say, whether she was there or not, not an issue. But no or little idea of time, saying she was expecting 1:30 pm when I had specifically said 12:30 or so - she lives in her own world.

Her brother was visiting over the summer from India - staying away in the week but coming to us on the weekends. One evening he rushes home - even takes a taxi from the station - so he is with us by 7:30. Because she has told him that we always have dinner at 7:30 and he has believed her. We do keep earlier hours when I am around and organising the dinner, but certainly not by way of routine otherwise.

The brother was here on another evening, which apparently is her 'ironing evening'. And he is mystified why she is not ironing. So am I - why would she say this? She hardly irons anyway. I used to do the bulk - certainly mine and 80% of our son's. The volume has reduced as sheets are no longer done and lockdown means my shirts have reduced. But, in her mind, she probably lives in a world which is close to my mother's - doing all the work from shopping to cooking to ironing, and everything timetabled and to a routine. Couldn't be further from the truth! (When my parents were alive and we used to visit them, She used to take ironing with her and do it at my their place. At that time she was not working and, more pertinently, I did the bulk of the ironing anyway!! What was she trying to prove?)

Away from these incidents, it is a little peck here, a little peck there, sometimes a kiss. How can the same person exhibit such different behaviours from moment to moment?

184: On the cusp ...

This will appear petty, ok? And it is in many ways. But these are the straws that break our back or remind us that a few minutes or days of peace cannot make up for the drip, drip, drip of pain - Confidant: 170: My fault but is it just me ....? (dear-confidant.blogspot.com), Confidant: 180: A Timely Reminder (dear-confidant.blogspot.com) - and hypocrisy - Confidant: 182: Really?! Fuck it ... (dear-confidant.blogspot.com)

A couple of Fridays ago and it is a hot, sunny day. She has gone to work and I am expecting her back at the usual time in the evening. I notice that the washing machine is full of wet clothes. So, I take them out and put them out to dry on the racks.

I joke with our cleaner that, no doubt, I have done this incorrectly and that I will be scolded on my return.

And, yes, that is exactly what happens. 

'I did not ask you to do this. You do this and I just have to redo it. You are not helping, you are just increasing my work.' And all in that loud, haranguing tone.

Then, suddenly, there is another angry shout. I have, apparently, put away the frying pans in the wrong order.

At that point, I have to say that I was on the cusp of saying to her that 'enough is enough'. 

I, still though, did not learn my lesson.

On Sunday, we had 8 people over for lunch - my friends and their partners but she knows and likes them too. I made all the arrangements, I did all the cooking. She did load the dishwasher.

But, with 8 people and dishes and plates, one load was not enough. So, Monday morning, I come down, clear out the washed dishes and place the next load.

She comes down and I get all the diatribe again. She takes everything out and re-orders. I had checked that the plastics were dishwasher suitable but, no, I was stupid to place them there. 

So, I have decided to stop putting the frying pans where they belong and loading the dishwasher - I am clearly incompetent. And it is just plain wrong to do the work when all it results in is more work for her, right?

And, once again, later in the evening it was all sweetness and light. She may forget - I do not.

Fuck it ...

183: A model

Many years ago, perhaps 2004, I was flying back from India and this young mother and her toddler daughter were sitting right behind me. This was before my wife and I had had our son.

The mother and I got chatting and we exchanged numbers at the airport. A few months later, she and her husband and daughter came over for lunch. Over time, we became friends as families - they were Indian too and we even met up in Kolkata when we happened to be there at the same time.

The connection weakened a little bit as our son is not very social and as he grew up so the 'gender apartheid' kicked in. Also, while I have many woman friends, in this case she and my wife took up the friendship role - and while I very much liked the husband, he was not that social.

We had not seen them for a long while but happened to be driving past the a few weekends ago and, at my instigation, my wife sent a message to ask if we could pop in. The response was immediate and we stopped by.

Turns out, the couple have separated and he has been living in another place for the last year. 

On the face of it, they had everything going for them. Both professionals, lots of shared background, good kids ...

We did not know about this at all and I felt sad that we had not been able to support either / both of them - just to talk.

It appears to be amicable and very 'grown up'. According to her, he was always really married to the job and struggled with the family life. And they mutually agreed to separate. They live close to each other and he continues to play a good part in the kids' lives.

The ins and outs do not matter. There appears to have been an understanding and, presumably, some adult conversations.

I suppose that this could be something of a model for me? The mother and I were the 'original' friends - as I pointed out to her in a subsequent note - and I may well go to her for advice and some sharing of experience.

I do not know if I will ever build up the momentum to leave but it is good to know that others can have grown up conversations, understanding each other's weaknesses and moving on with as little damage as possible.

182: Really?! Fuck it ...

I am putting the bins out yesterday evening. Have cleaned and tidied the kitchen during the day after the mess she has left when heading out for work - unlike so many times in the past where I have come home from work (she was not working at the time) to find a pile of dishes in the sink and mess all over the house. But ... bygones!

I am rushing as I have to take our son to rugby practice - she does offer but, having just come back from work, I am happy to do the drop and pick. 

I come home some time later and am immediately berated for having left the back door unlocked. Not the first time this has happened and, yes, I forgot again, but this was in the early evening and all our windows are wide open anyway!

I have noted before the complete hypocrisy of her anger before - she leaves her car keys in the ignition or keys in the front door overnight and there is, of course, no self-reprobation.

The other night I come down to the kitchen and the front window is not shut - she usually goes upstairs last. She often leaves the back windows open all night in the summer and apparently that is just fine - thieves clearly do not know how to use windows.

It is not the comment or the critique, it is the tone that says, 'you are completely and utterly stupid'.