a day off…

You know what I hate about days off?

He takes the day off, too.

(He has his own business; he pretty much works – or doesn’t work – whenever he chooses.)

I’ve been looking forward to having today off all week long.  Well, actually, even longer than that.  Sleeping in.  Doing stuff around the house.  Enjoying a long week-end.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think about that he, too, would want to sleep in and do stuff around the house.

I turned off my alarm last night so it wouldn’t go off this morning.  It was wonderful to just sleep.  When I woke up, I thought, oh, he’ll get out of bed soon and then I can lie in bed all by myself for awhile.

Not.

He finally did get up and go to the bathroom.

Now, I thought, now I can have the bed to myself.

No such luck.  He got back into bed.

And then he started talking about the chickens: the cute sounds they make, how they are saying that they should be out in the yard already even if it is the Fourth of July.

I had already cried while he was in the bathroom.  Now I just wanted to scream and scream.

I couldn’t even think straight.  I couldn’t even come up with a Plan B since he was interfering with my Plan A.

And then he turned on his side and put his hand on me.

That was the breaking point.

I slapped his hand off, jumped out of bed, and left the bedroom, slamming the door.   Still in my nightgown, I went outside and got into my van and cried and cried and cried.  I prayed God would just kill me so I wouldn’t have to do this anymore.  I told God that I just couldn’t do it.

I felt like such a basket case, so insane, completely off my rocker.  Completely irrational.

I really didn’t want to come back in the house.  At least my daughter can hide in her room.  There is nowhere I can hide.  Except the bathroom.  But I was hungry and needed to eat.  So I finally came in the house.

He wasn’t in bed anymore; he was at the computer at the other end of the bedroom.  I at least had my little “space” where I sit on the floor with my laptop.  I got my breakfast and sat down to the companionship of the internet.

After a little bit, he came over and asked me why I hit him.

I told him that I didn’t hit him.

He said that I did hit him and that I almost broke his finger.

I told him that I didn’t mean to do that.  I told him I was trying to brush his hand off me, that I didn’t want him touching me.

He stared at me for awhile, but didn’t say anything else.  Then he left the bedroom and I heard him go out the front door.

I hope he has a lovely day with his chickens.

Actually, yesterday he said he was going to work on “The Fort” and then later go to some open house thing at a place in another city.

Maybe I will at least get the house to myself for most of the day.

Anyhow, I still can’t think very straight this morning.  There is a book I have been reading and I think it is having a huge impact, so huge I can’t even process it, on my emotions.  But maybe it will be part of a healing process for me.  We’ll see.

I’ll tell you about it another time.

I hope your enjoy your Fourth of July celebration, whatever it may be.  A couple of my siblings and their families will come over on Sunday and we will have our annual cook-out.

When I was in the van, I was wishing (I’m really, really good at wishing) that somehow, by some miracle, that today could be my Independence Day.

I wish an Independence Day for you, too.