2008-10-07 - 10:59 a.m.

Most people are questioning my decision to stay at a job which has produced from me, in the short six months that I’ve worked there, nothing but complaints and several rages. Be assured, friends, that I know what I am doing. Because I do. Without going into this at length, it all boils down to comfort. It boils down to a necessity of mine to have mind space. It is only recently in my tenure at my job that I have reached the mind space stage. I can work an entire shift, and work flawlessly, without once thinking about what I am doing. I can be entirely within my own mind. And that is somewhere I have not entirely been since before we moved to Spain. It’s nice to be there again. It is my unwillingness to start this process over again which has led to my un-quitting of my job. I used to spend my entire days thinking about words and stories and twists and plots…and then I started planning a move to Spain and then I moved to Spain and things were never, ever comfortable enough there for me to resume my habits. Now. Now things are comfortable again. Let me have my time and I will try to not rage about my job.

My husband is NOT comfortable these days. I say ‘these days’ but in truth I have not ever seen him comfortable outside his Paris years. Those years, when I first met him until we moved to Spain, he seemed comfortable. Everything about his life was perfect for him I guess. His work, his colleagues, his office, his home, his social life. After he moved away from that his life turned sour. And he is getting worse. I don’t know what to do or even if there is anything I can do. He hated Spain, he hated his job there, he hated our house, he hated everything all the time. Then we moved here and it appears that he hates it even more here. He is incapable of finding anything good on which to focus. Most days I feel as though I ruined his life by getting married to him. I know this isn’t true and that being married to me has little to do with his unhappiness…but it’s difficult, on my vulnerable days, to not feel that way. I want to shake him, to tell him to get a grip. TO BE PATIENT. Things cannot always be perfect and when they are not perfect you just have to find happy things on which to focus your attentions. I remember very specifically, a time in Spain when he was doom and gloom and doom and gloom and I made a picnic lunch for him complete with lemonade made from lemons on our tree and I said, “when Spain gives you lemons…make lemonade!” Because really, WE WERE LIVING IN SPAIN! WITH A LEMON TREE! A POOL! A HUGE HOUSE! VINEYARDS! THE SEA! It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom and doom and gloom. Oh…I have so much to talk about concerning the Spain years. I am angry. I’ve been angry. Now I am getting angrier. From time to time he says wistfully, “remember when we lived in Spain?” and I want to punch him in the fucking face.

Oh god, anyway. I need to digress. I just wanted to point out that I am at a loss about my husband. I have no hope that he will ever be happy again unless I can somehow transport him back to the years of 1999-2005 and let them play a continual loop. It is because of my absolute surety that he will never be happy again that I have decided to cement myself here. I need to be cemented in order to be happy and because I know that I have potential to be unbearably happy and my husband has no happiness potential whatsoever…it is my happiness that I will focus on. I am going to cement myself. Starting with my job where I can spend 30 hours a week going through my memorized motions. Period. The end. That is all.


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