I had high hopes that Mark was turning in his dissertation on Friday -- leaving us with 3 full days of skipping in the street, getting drunk mid-day and reclaiming the surfaces of the conservatory, now piled high with books and papers and student detritus.
The cruel MBA people are allowing him to turn it in on Monday. Squashing my visions with a big stinky foot.
I responded as only I can. Crabbily, brattily annoyed.
I feel bad about this, but I was soooooo close to having my partner back. Space in his head for me. Play dates and also help mate in the house. I feel I have been by my standards, patient for so long. I was ready. Am ready for the Next Thing.
So instead I went to the movies. (Atonement- v good) and I went to the dry cleaners. And did laundry. And took a long soaky bubble bath with the October Vanity Fair. And made chicken corn chowder. And I felt very sorry for myself for 2 days. Making this All About Me. And making me about 8 years old.
But today is Sunday and while I firmly believe Mark has made this about 700 times harder, longer and more time consuming than I ever would, it is his way. And he will be proud to turn it in at the very last tick of the clock tonight. And even though I am so very done with Mark's MBA and his year of learning, I know I am getting a more rounded and more fulfilled partner out of it.
So the vision has changed to a long celebratory lunch on my No Work Monday. WIne. Good Food. Talking. Just the 2 of Us. With nothing hanging over our heads. Except him getting a job. But that complaint is for another day.
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