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This morning has sucked. How the day goes? It’s a choice, right?

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I have heard that people in partnership (though I think it is probably sage advice for those not as well) should never go to bed angry. I like that idea. I make every effort to always make that happen. But you know, there is only so much one person can do… you do your best. However, I have to say that I think waking up to rage and ranting and negativity – regardless of who it is directed towards – is far worse than the sullen goodnight.

I am not a morning person. I recognize this. As such, I do my best to stay focused with my eyes on the prize – the awakening – that is always on the metaphorical horizon. I don’t over engage and I try not to be ridiculously sensitive.

I drink a lot of coffee.

Today I got up quietly, and came to the kitchen to wash a few dishes and make coffee. My window faces to the west, and it is almost always foggy to the west in San Francisco, at least in the mornings – it is one of the many reasons I feel I have a special connection with the City, we both are slow to show what is on offer for the day in the morning hours. I quietly and deliberately washed the dishes that remained in the sink from yesterday’s snacks, and even Friday’s lunches. I made the coffee. And as I was doing this, along with my morning meditation on “things I will do today,” it began.

The abstract rage.

I do not feel that this rage is directed at me. I have rarely even considered it. Sometimes I listen to it, mostly now I do not. It is often about my cats, more specifically the admittedly inconvenient reality of the litter box. Today there was something about an inadequate shelf in my bathroom. Yesterday, it was about a ball point pen that did not write well.

If I ignore all of it, it will generally dissipate. As I said, it is rarely directed towards me and rarely has anything to do with me. There are times when I am baited… with comments like, “Yeah, I said that. I.AM.ALLOWED.” Or, “Yeah. I burped and I am not excusing myself either.” Which makes me laugh as there has never been a single occasion on which I have ever told someone to “excuse themself” for that (truth be told I have a complete personal aversion to bodily functions and do my very best to avoid all conversation about them and handle them in total private, but hey, we are humans, ergo, we are kind of gross.) If I continue to let it ride and say nothing, even when I am baited, I can be sure that eventually things will reset.

But if I engage… behold the Seventh Circle of Hell. I am not a passive engager. So, when I get to the point of engagement, it will not be pleasant. The cycle has been ignited.

None of this really matters to me right now, the strategy, the observation of emotional temperature, and conscious choice of action. It is a game I could play forever. What matters to me right now is that I think I have come to a decision.

I do not want to play this game.

Without harping on age or whatever, I will say this: I am too old to put up with this kind of shit. I do not want to do it. I want it to be out of my life. I love my life. I love my family. I love my house. I love my cats. I love my work. I love my friends. I love where I live. Why in the hell would I put up with something that has the potential to pollute so much of what I love? It makes no sense. As Junot Diaz says, “This is how you lose her.”

I have enjoyed so many aspects of being in partnership with another person. There have been indescribably wonderful moments. But there has been unspeakably hideous shit two, and I believe it is possible to have one without the other. Some one out there will surely agree.

Game on.


Filed under: Chasing the Life I was Supposed to Want, Family, Friends, Home, Life, Relationships, San Francisco, true stories Tagged: Family, Friends, Home, Relationships, San Francisco, self-confidence, self-image, standing up for yourself

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