Dream a little

I had a sex dream the other night. As usual, it was about a guy to whom I am not normally attracted. I mean, I just don't think of that guy like that! But that's par for the course for these sorts of things with me.

I don't know how it is with other people, but sex in my dreams is much better than can probably be achieved in real life. It started out really great, but then just wound up bad. I couldn't understand it- it was MY dream. It kinda pissed me off. I can't even have great sex in my dreams anymore.

Gender roles reversed

Last night when my husband called from the road, I asked him if he was coming home first or if he was heading straight to class. He answered 'I'm on ________ Road.' I paused and asked the question again. This is a pattern with him. I ask a simple either/or question, and he gives a third answer that he apparently thinks indicates which one it is. Usually, it doesn't without me having to either ask further questions or think about what he said.

Also, for some reason he thinks that when I don't understand something he said, if he repeats it louder and slower I'll get it. I wasn't that I didn't hear what he said, I simply didn't understand what he meant by it. He has a tendancy to say a simple sentence that doesn't contain all the pertinent information, and then get upset when I ask questions to clarify his meaning or to find out what exactly is going on. I'm often reduced to explaining that I am not a mind-reader and he has to speak what he's thinking.

Isn't it funny that, as the women, I'm the one who is expected to know what he wants while I'm the one who explicitly states my needs?

Overthinking

Things have gotten better between Rob and me. I should be happy about this, but I can't help but feel unease at the reason WHY it's better.

Ever since the semester has began, Ron hasn't been home most nights. The one weeknight he is home, we tend to have dinner with my dad. Plus, he's been gone one weekend and I've been working on Saturday on another. In other words, we don't see each other much anymore and I'm happy about it.

This could just mean we both need to have more of a life outside of each other. I know that to make a marriage work we need to have outside interests, but Rob seems to resent any time I spend away from him doing things I enjoy. However, with him being the one gone all the time, I have nothing to complain about. In fact, I like it. I find his presence stressful, which just shouldn't be the case with the man I love.

Maybe I'm overthinking this, which god knows could be the case. I overthink everything. I can't make a decision without researching the options. Maybe I should just accept that we're happier when we don't spend so much time together. I think that with him absent so much, he doesn't have as much of a chance to get on my nerves. Aaargh! I should just go with what makes me happy and not think about the implications.

Two steps forward, one step back

I think I'm substituting sleeping for eating, which can't be right. I've been sleeping longer and taking more naps, so basically I'm awake for about 12 hours a day. I'm pretty sure this isn't healthy. Thing is, when I sleep my hunger doesn't bother me. I can go to bed a little hungry and wake a little hungry. Isn't our digestive system supposed to slow down when we sleep? Maybe this is my body's way of coping with calorie and fat restrictions. I know the next step is to get active, but it's hard to get myself to take a walk when all I want to do is curl up and snooze away.

All I need to know about the men in my life, I learned from the cartoons

OK, it's an exaggeration. But only a little.

My father is a living, breathing version of Homer Simpson. Alright, so he's smarter than Homer. Last time I checked he wouldn't fall for a trap with a pie as bait. But a lot of Homer's personality traits are incredibly similar to his. In fact, last time my husband started telling me about my dad, my first thought was 'What dumbass thing has he done now?'

My husband is all too close to Peter Griffin. The main similarities are immaturity and insensitivity towards others. It honestly does not occur to my husband that if he says something nasty about something I've worked to do, it'll hurt my feelings. I can forgive some of it, but part of growing up is developing a sense of how your actions will affect others. If you can't learn to think of it, you are immature and inconsiderate.

Lucky for me, my brother resembles neither Chris or Stewie Griffin and isn't at all like Bart Simpson. His personality is too normal to be a cartoon character, I guess. Chuck Bartowski in 'Chuck', yeah, but not nearly over-the-top enough for anything but a sitcom.

No effort

Other than telling Rob the story of Saturday night and warning him that the new neighbor seems to have a thing for him, we didn't really have too much conversation Sunday night. He's planning to be out of town this weekend too and it doesn't bother me one bit.

Part of this is my resolve to just not try anymore. I used to put an effort into things- meals, activities, little special treats. I almost always got shot down in flames. To be fair, I don't think Rob intentionally tries to hurt my feelings but he almost always has something not-nice to say about my efforts or he rejects them. Even if I explain how I was trying to do something nice for him, I get the reaction equivalant of a shrug.

I kinda got pissed off at Christmas that I was putting effort into gifts and that he would get partial credit for it. I find myself unable to stop doing things that make US look good to other people. Him, though? He's on his own now. I'm just not gonna try. Well, at least that's what I say. I'm trying to not try, which is hard. My instinct is to try to show affection and love in things I do for him.

But now? The less I do, the less I get hurt and the less I care. I guess if I was truly worried about the state of our marriage I would care. But he's the one who really wants this. He's the committed one. Right now I feel like I could take it or leave it and don't care too much what happens. But the fact that I had to stop showing affection to protect myself within my marriage is awful.

It's been easier lately since he's been more cheerful. He still gets stressed and pissed off but he doesn't take it out on me as much. This is an improvement but it makes me wonder why exactly he's so happy when nothing's changed.

Drama magnet

I had the most disturbing visit last night. I'd gone to bed early because I'd been up early after a night of poor sleep. I was woken by a pounding on our back door. I was sure it was for the kid across the hall, so I ignored it until it happened again. When I answered the door in my robe, I was a bit surprised to see a strange, drunk woman.

Turns out she's half of the couple that moved in two floors below us. She had met my husband when he was downstairs doing laundry and had come searching for him, even though he had told her he would be out of town this weekend. She introduced herself and I politely chatted with her for a while, attempting to bring the conversation to a quick close. No such luck.

After telling me repeatedly how attractive my husband is and how lucky I am, she mentioned that she and her boyfriend were swingers. They also smoke pot and self-evidently drink. Oh, and she's very racist and is happy to have moved to this area because it's very white. She pushed her way into our apartment, wandered around looking at everything, tumbled drunkenly over the couch and stumbled into our bedroom.

Then, she opened her sweater (she was braless) and pulled down her pants and undies because she was telling me how she was trying to lose weight for her boyfriend. After attempting to kiss me many times, she suggested we go lie down on the bed together. When I refused, she wanted me to smoke a cigarette with her. I don't smoke. After trying to kiss me one more time, she finally went back to her apartment but left the smell of sweaty, smoke-marinated drunk woman behind her.

I'm told I attract pushy people because I look too nice. I guess I'm gonna have to cultivate a bitchy look so I don't have to deal with drama again. I warned my husband when he got home, and now I'm almost scared to go downstairs unless I'm leaving the building. I wanna move!