I was having a terrible day yesterday. I have a lot of those lately, but that's a different post for a later (much later) date. This story is about how, despite my terrible day, Joe was great. And I was a jerk.
Joe knew what a terrible day I had had, so he gave me a good head scratching when he came home, cooked me his specialty (Scrambled eggs. For dinner. Deal with it. Hmm, I wonder if he washed his hands between the head scratching and the eggs. Wait, do I care?.....No.) and he let me watch the shows I wanted to watch without complaint.
Before we went to bed, he listened to me vent about my day/life and why I was so upset. And he gave good input and he was very encouraging and supportive. And he offered to give me a back massage. And instead of being appreciative, I scolded him for not turning off the light.
During the night, I had a dream that Joe and I were on a roller coaster but we weren't securely buckled, and at a tiny loop, Joe fell out.
I don't subscribe to the Technicolor Dreamcoat method of dream explanation, but this one really nailed the...nail...right on the head. He and I are on a rocky path right now, one that I have little to no control over. Nothing like my own cerebellum to smack me out of my piss poor attitude and make me realize that Joe is in this with me, and I can't take that for granted.
On an unrelated note, anyone want to go to Six Flags with me this summer?
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