Ladies and Gentlemen, I love Trent. There are a number of reasons I love that man but I’m going to illustrate a couple of them for you, to get me in the right mood to go sleep before work. ^_^
I’m both lazy -and- absent minded which ’causes me a number of problems. The most obvious issue is that I’ll do things like buy a fountain drink… drink it… and then set it down somewhere and promptly forget about it. Everytime I pass by it my brain will fail to see it. I’ll only notice the damn thing when it next complicates my life – by, like, being in the cup holder where I want to put my -new- drink. I sear Trent’s running around idly picking up the things I set down and dealing with them because I’m noticing a distinct lack of empty containers in my environment -and- my shoes and keys and things are constantly findable. o.O Since I haven’t had any personality-changing head trauma lately, I can only assume this is Trent’s doing.
And then; Trent and I like to play a lot and we spend a lot of time fussing at each other. Bouts of playful scuffling for dominance in a situation, teasing each other, poking and pestering and fussing. For the most part it’s fun for both of us but every now and then it’ll go Far Enough and all of a sudden I’ll be annoyed. Don’t take this the wrong way, I give far better than I get – he’s a much, much nicer person than I am and if either of us is going to walk roughshod across the other, it’s going to be me. But the other day it went Far Enough and all of a sudden I was annoyed. Not at him, just at the situation. So we broke and went to our separate corners – he on the computer to play Nethack and I sitting on the bed with my art supplies.
But it’s me so I had to poke the situation repeatedly. “It’s not that I’m angry at you…” I said, tentatively.
“I’ve never been angry at you.” he replied.
“It’s just like we do something and then we cross the line but it doesn’t stop right away. We carry this on just a little too long sometimes.” I said and he made a reasonably agreeable noise.
“We’ve got to figure this out,” I said. “I don’t want to spend the next sixty years getting irritated at you regularly.” And again, he made an agreeable noise while I poked at my art supplies.
After a few minutes I said, “Hey, Trent. Do we do this more often when I’m PMSing?”
“Yes.” he said, quite shortly.
“Oh. Oh! … Why didn’t you point that out?”
“Well because it’s not the sort of thing that’s nice to say.”
^_^ I dunno, boys and girls.