the Relationship


The Boyfriend has taken to sleeping on his back as of late. I have no idea why- I never ever ever sleep on my back so I find this new sleeping position odd, but whatever. He’s not been getting a lot of sleep as of late, so, of course, I want him to get the best sleep possible.

HOWEVER.

When he sleeps on his back, he snores. And by snores, I mean SNORES. I’ve been waking up two or three times a night, which is not good for my quality of sleep. Initially, subtle “accidental” pokes were enough to get him to roll over without waking him up, but as of late, he seems to have grown immune to these and it pretty much takes either pulling the pillow out from under his head (what?) or shoving him hard (again, like you wouldn’t) to get it to stop. Which, of course, wakes him up and makes him rather cranky.

So the question is: is it better for just one of us to be awake and suffering (SNORING people SNORING) or should we both be awake, but with a chance of falling back asleep? Or, of course, there is always the option of throwing a blanket or something over his face and seeing what happens. (What? You put the stuffed tiger on your own face. Seriously.).

Sigh. Maybe it is just time to break out the tylenol pm.

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So the Boyfriend is home right now for the first night in several nights. Yesterday when I was out on Long Island returning the moving truck with his parents I picked up an order of penne alla vodka and some rice balls at a place we like for him to have for dinner.

He told me when he got home that he could not engage in banal conversation with me because he just has too much on his mind. I have been reading on the couch while he ate and played around on his computer.

He just asked me if I was upset about something (I wasn’t) because I haven’t offered to do anything for him to “make his life easier.” By this, I infer that he means heat up his dinner for him, do his dishes and rub his shoulders for more than the five minutes I did (I prob. could have rubbed longer but his dinner was ready.

I am seething right now. We have groceries because I bought them yesterday. We have water because I picked it up. The apartment is clean because I cleaned it Friday night after I got home from work. We will have clean laundry tomorrow because I will do it, just like I’ve done it by myself for the last three weeks. Obviously I do these things to contribute to our life in the apartment and not to get thanked or keep score.

But seriously? I don’t think I’m a bad girlfriend because I didn’t heat his dinner up for him.

I’m going back and forth on this one people.

The Boyfriend has had a horrible, horrible week at work this week. We are talking insane levels of ridiculousness here – I don’t think he got home before 1:30 a single night this week and there were two nights where it was definitely more like 3:30. In contrast, I’ve had a pretty easy week after my craziness of the previous three weeks. So I completely understand that he is suffering and tired and miserable and I feel bad about that.

I am having a joint birthday bar gathering for myself (Happy Belated Birthday Self!) and one of my girlfriends from work (and it looks like, even though he will be working up until the start, he will make it. I told him he doesn’t have to come  because I do know he’s exhausted and needs sleep, but he said he will try and be there and I am glad about that because he invited a lot of his friends (as I like to call them, my friends-through-the-Boyfriend) and while I am quite fond of most of them, they’re not really my friends and I know most of them are really coming to see the Boyfriend and so I don’t really feel like dealing with that potential awkwardness on my own.

But anyway, despite the fact that work is crazy crazy insane, the Boyfriend is taking tomorrow morning and afternoon off (how sad is it when you have to use the phrase “taking off” in regards to a Sunday?) to move his sister. That is a story and a half in and of itself, one that will get it’s own post one of these days, but ultimately the point is that that is his number one priority.

So I have things outside of work going on these days as well, all leading up to an announcement of some VERY BIG NEWS that I hope to share at the end of next week as long as all goes well and there has been some prep work necessary. This needs to be done by tomorrow and the Boyfriend has been promising and promising he would help me with it today.

I’m sure you see where this is going.

When he got up this morning, he said it wasn’t happening because he had to work all day. And I get that, really do. And this is something I could do on my own, but really wanted his help with.

So I was a brat and was pissy this morning. I tried to explain that I was just really frustrated with the situation and he told me I was selfish. I recognize that there is some truth to that, but at the same time, it doesn’t change that I was counting on him and he knew I was counting on him and I guarantee you that even if work calls tomorrow and is like “Screw your “family thing.” Get into work ASAP” he won’t go until every last thing is complete and perfect for his sister. And I KNOW that right now work needs to come before everything else, but it just doesn’t feel quite fair.

So he called a bit ago and told me that when things are hard for him, I need to be more supportive or else it’s not fair to him and I do understand his point, but I don’t know that burying how I feel is fair to me either.

So that’s where we are right now. I’m frustrated and annoyed and not sure if I’m being a 100% unreasonable bitch or if how I feel is actually okay and valid. Clearly tonight is looking like a super-fun night. Awesome.

Or, the Snarky Verizon Guy‘s Revenge*

As I have mentioned previously, when I started work, I got a Black.Berry for work. And I got a phone plan because I am trying my best to keep my personal life personal and am willing to carry around both a Berry and a phone to do so. The Berry phone number is the only number work has and no one else in my life has that number.

So Verizon gives me a new number. Great. However, today the Berry starts blowing up with texts from people who don’t know or forget that the person with this number before changed his number.

And these texts? All congratulations texts. Why congratulations? Because dude-who-used-to-have-this-number just got engaged.

Somewhere, someone in the universe is laughing right now.**

* Of course, this actually has nothing to do with him. But still.
** I will concede, Well Played Universe, Well Played.

Apparently it is a compliment for him to tell me I am an “extremely proficient” cook. Am I asking too much to want to be something more than just proficient? Maybe I am being too sensitive to word choice here.

I cooked dinner tonight. This is nothing particularly special as I have cooked for myself pretty much every night since my junior year of college. Tonight was also nothing big- just whole wheat pasta with roasted tomatos, spinach and white beans. But the boyfriend RAVED about it which was very sweet.

And then he said, “you know, you’re almost as good of a cook as my sister.”

Really?

“Well, of course you’re not as good a cook as my sister. She does have a cookbook.”

And you, dear readers, know how I feel about that. You will be glad to know that I bit my tongue and didn’t say anything mean beyond that it would be nice if he didn’t compare us. But I am not particularly happy right now either.

My night last night involved some possibly pending really awesome news that I would prefer to share if and when it becomes official, but, for right now, suffice it to say it involved a dog (the news has nothing to do with that per se). A very sweet dog whose cute little head I naturally petted repeatedly.

I then went home where the boyfriend and I interacted. I possibly also ruffled his hair at one point as he was laying (lying? I can never remember) on the couch when I got in.

Shortly thereafter we decided to go out and grab a pizza. As we were waiting for the elevator, he asked about how my post-work appointment went and I casually mentioned the dog.

And he freaked out. FREAKED OUT. As in, went back in the apartment and scrubbed his hands and then accused me of touching a dog and then touching him without washing my hands (I mean, all true, but really no big deal, right?).

I think therapy is in order.

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