random thoughts – Day 1,766 – (Thursday) – death by a thousand cuts

Note: This was originally posted in my random truths blog on January 23, 2014, and in a now long-gone website that was called Unite4Women on January 22, 2014.

According to Wikipedia, “death by a thousand small cuts” is a way major negative change happens — slowly, in many unnoticed increments not perceived as objectionable. It is akin to the expression “boiling a frog,” where the belief is a frog placed in a pot of hot water will jump out, but one placed in cold water and gradually heated won’t notice the danger and will eventually be cooked to death.

I think this was the manner in which my second marriage was ultimately, incrementally extinguished. 

In the beginning, as in the end, it was all about the small things. I believe that had we continued our attention to the small things we could have sustained what was once the most important big thing — our marriage.

Initially, we specialized in details, niceties, and politeness. He was in the US Army and transferred to Seoul, S. Korea while we were dating. Before he left we spent hours talking about our concerns for the forced separation, but it turned out we excelled on separate continents, emailing each other daily (often multiple times) with long messages recounting the day’s activities and filled with sentiment for each other and plans for a future together. I raced home to check for his emails.

On weekends we invested two and three hour blocks of time burning the international calling plan and bridging time zones to discuss everything under the sun, the moon, and the stars. Under the classic “way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” philosophy, I regularly baked cookies to mail to him.

Separated by half a world, we still maintained a magical closeness.

After 18 months of long-distance relationship nurturing and maintenance I quit my job, moved to Korea, and we married. Together in time and space, he opened doors to buildings and vehicles for me and I thanked him for it. Hand in hand we rode the subway and walked around Seoul. We talked about our future and planned our life back stateside.

Three months later, he retired from the Army and we returned to the house he owned in Tennessee and a new life together. We continued our habits of paying attention to each other by talking, dreaming, holding hands and opening doors. Married life was good.

But somewhere along the line we stopped noticing each other. I don’t know when it happened, I only know that about four years into our marriage, I realize with a shock the many ways our relationship had shifted. We had managed to commit the tiny crimes of neglect we vowed to never do when we first married.

When he walked in the door from work, the warm “Hi, Babe” and quick kiss had been replaced with a curt “What’s for dinner?”

Instead of rushing home, I found reasons to be elsewhere.

We stopped eating facing each other at the dining room table and were eating side by side on the living room sofa, facing the TV.

The routine question of “How was your day?” was met with “OK,” or “crappy,” instead of the once detailed stories of coworkers, bosses, work successes and frustrations.

Too much space in between.

Weekend walks in the woods had been traded for near-silent observation of outdoor shows on TV.

We never emailed or spoke to each other during the workday.

We stopped talking to each other and replaced it with watching other people talking on TV.

My self confidence took a nosedive and I began provoking arguments primarily for the conversation and attention.

The volume and resonance of his snoring increased. I resented what I perceived as his indifference to the effect on my own sleep, and stomped down the hall to the guest room, where I set up permanent camp.

Where we had once done everything together — talking, shopping, hiking, driving aimlessly around town holding hands — we had degenerated to living separate, parallel, mostly silent lives.

When I expressed my concerns, he didn’t want to discuss it. He said he was happy and that we had a great marriage because we rarely fought. The way I saw it, we rarely fought because we didn’t talk, and a marriage is only as happy as the least happy person.

On separate continents, we were able to focus on each other and maintain closeness, but under the same roof, we had incrementally neglected each other until there was too much emotional space between us.

One thousand small cuts later, we signed papers for our divorce.

Originally published January 22, 2014 on www.Unite4Women.com.

random thoughts – Day 1,765 – (Wednesday) – delights and annoyances

It was a day with ripples and bumps comprised of small delights and not-huge but too-frequent annoyances.

Blurry Kiki chasing a blurry ball.

Kiki played with a ball – delight! (Also a miracle, because in the past 11 months, she has never played in front of me.)

Missed getting a good photo of Kiki’s milestone of playing with a ball, so fuzzy has to do – annoyance. 

The tire pressure is low again – annoyance.

The drive to work is back to the regular traffic and knuckleheads blocking the intersections – annoyance.

The new stop sign configuration at the parking garage has some drivers confused about the meaning of the word “stop” and flashing red lights – annoyance.

Bagel!

Got a parking spot on the second level instead of level five – delight. 

Bagels, cream cheese, and a fruit tray for breakfast at the office – delight.

The paper plates, usually in the cabinet, were all gone (again) – annoyance (ongoing variety).

Lunch was quiche and fruit – delight.

The Internet went out mid-afternoon – annoyance.

Sautéed veggies.

It was 24 degrees when walking to the garage – annoyance.

Traffic on the way home was light – delight.

Slipped on ice in my driveway and hit the ground – annoyance.

Supper (sautéed veggies) took only 10 minutes to make – delight. 

At least the delights and annoyances kinda sorta balanced each other out. Thank goodness for the delights or my head might explode.

random thoughts – Day 1,764 – (Tuesday) – another day

It was mostly just another day. There was coffee, like all the other many days, which was good, followed by just another day of work which wasn’t bad.

Another day, another bowl of soup.

Lunch was a case of another day, another bowl of soup. It was soup made the other day with spinach and mushrooms added and topped with cheddar cheese. So delicious. Any day, every day -- they are all soup days in my mind.

A midafternoon knock on the front door introduced a moment of annoyance. I considered not answering but I failed to meet that challenge and answered it. On the walk at the bottom of the stairs stood two dudes, bundled in coats with “Trinity” lettered on the left chest.

I’ve been feeling pretty salty, so I greeted them with “Hey, so what are we selling today? Could it be …. Solar?” Of course it was. The guys were actually nice and listened to all my concerns about solar panels and all the reasons why I don’t want them (ugly, stupid looking, would probably need a roof first, and based on my electric bill, I would never recoup the cost).

After work, it was off to dance class. Dance, no matter where it takes place, almost always elevates a day beyond just another day. While Sunday dance takes place in a yoga studio, Tuesday dance happens in a church hall. We did a veil warmup and worked on a choreography and it was fun. It might have started as just another day, but it wrapped up as better than average.

random thoughts – Day 1,763 – (Monday) – somebody’s watching

Kiki admiring the art.

Kiki spends more time out of hiding recently. She hasn’t hunkered down behind the couch in several weeks, and I can’t remember the last time I saw her hidden in her hidey bed. 

Kiki being out in the open gives me ample time to observe her and her elegant beauty and shiny coat.

Her current adorable behavior is when she quietly climbs up onto her chair, then onto the arm of the chair and faces the corner of the room. Sometimes she sits tall, sometimes curls up like a fluffy lump. 

When she isn’t napping on the narrow chair arm, she often faces the corner like she’s being punished in the naughty corner. Then she will turn her head to the wall next to the window and it looks like she is admiring the artwork on the wall. 

Micromanager at work.

When not looking at the artwork or staring at the corner of the living room wall, Kiki has other interests. She can sometimes be spotted halfway up the staircase, peering between the handrail, surveying the dining room region of her kingdom. 

It is from her elevated post on the stairs that Kiki silently monitors the scooping of the litterbox and prepping the trash on Sunday nights. The Rockwell song “Somebody’s Watching Me” runs through my head as Kiki observes me during her training program for a micromanagement position. It can be a little unnerving.

random thoughts – Day 1,762 – (Sunday) – sunday drive

The day after the snow day was dance day. This meant a drive down the picturesque Routes 113 and 119. 

The roads were clear and the dark pavement wound through the snowy towns between Lowell and Townsend. The sky was blue and there were horses wearing blankets in snow covered fields, snow capped New England stone walls running along the road and between fields, a covered bridge, gazebos, and churches. The river was covered in snow and ice. For most of the drive, there was no place to pull over for pictures on the narrow two-lane roads.

Birds on the snowy river.

A couple hours later on the drive home, much of the snow had fallen from the trees, but the fields and walls were still blanketed in white. There was finally a chance to pull over and park when I was back in Lowell. There were spaces available in the parking lot on Pawtucket Boulevard at the park along the Merrimack River. 

There were a few people walking along the paved path and lots of birds on the partially frozen river. Seagulls, geese, and ducks convened in groups on the snow-covered river while pigeons congregated in the parking lot. There was a lone goose close to shore. It stood on one webbed foot, the other raised off the snow. When it tried to walk, there seemed to be a lot of trouble with putting weight on it. It limped along at a very small pace. Poor goose.

random thoughts – Day 1,761 – (Saturday) – snow day

Welcome.

So, I opened my mouth a couple days ago and said I would like some snow. I got what I asked for, and more. Maybe I need to confidently ask for some other things, like a level of job certainty or maybe a million dollars so I don’t need to worry about the job part anymore.

The Friday weather forecasts called for a “coating to an inch” and I went to bed with the impression there wouldn’t be much when I woke up. When I looked out the window at 8:00 this morning, there was snow. It was falling and had already accumulated an inch or so. The morning weather reports seemed to be backpedaling and covering their butts with language like “Well, we said maybe an inch but then we added that there could be isolated higher accumulations.”

I’m not mad there is snow. I just wish the forecast had set expectations that were closer to the reality. It felt like being at work for the past month and feeling blindsided by developments beyond the control of me or anyone on my team. If the forecasts said several inches, I would likely have been mapping out my snow day welcome and imagining reading and drinking hot cocoa and the shovel workout.

Snow day leisure.

Anyway. I dressed in my fantasy ski-lodge ensemble of Cuddl Duds long john base layers under leggings and a Cuddl Duds long top, and Nordic patterned socks. I haven't been inside a ski lodge in several years, but a girl can dream. The attire was snowy-day suitable for leaving the house to go to LaLa Books for the book I wanted to buy on Friday before I realized I didn't have my wallet, but the jury was still out as to whether that might happen or not. It would depend upon factors like the snow stopping and if my street was plowed or not. In the meantime, my butt was parked on the couch. 

The snow day menu was soup. Of course it was. It was a snow day, and there was a pot of it in the fridge. This time, half and half was added to the bowl, to change it up a bit from the past couple days. Instead of bread or crackers, I got all wild with toast with butter. Before deciding on the soup, the idea of making a quiche was toyed with, because baking and a snow day go well together. Then I decided to do it later in the afternoon, possibly after going downtown to the bookstore.

Shortly before 4:00, a break was taken from the marathon of The White Lotus on Max. I slipped on the tall snow boots and the L.L. Bean coat and the Burton snow gloves and trudged to the shed for the shovels. Had I been prepared for snow accumulation beyond a dusting that could be swept, there would already have been a shovel planted at the front and back doors.

The snow was several inches deep, but it was light and fluffy. Not good for making snowballs or snow people, but quick work for shoveling. In about 30 minutes, the car and driveway were cleaned off, there was cleared access to the doors and trash bin, and I was sweating. The street had been plowed and there was time to go downtown, but the activity was postponed. Maybe on Sunday. It was back to the season one marathon of The White Lotus, which I’ve already seen a couple times, but had forgotten so much of  it felt new.

The Swedish drama, The Breakthrough (Netflix), was the early evening entertainment. It involves use of DNA to solve a crime, which is the detail in the show’s description that caught my attention. This kept me from making the quiche, but there is still Sunday for such delightful domestic endeavors, and maybe I’ll have been to the grocery store for mushrooms or spinach or something else interesting to add to it.

random thoughts – Day 1,760 – (Friday) – work and cheese

The first full workweek of the year and also in several weeks is in the books. I made it. Five consecutive days of work and I didn’t die. Whew. The month-long stretch of weeks with holidays and vacation time felt disjointed, but this week had shades of accomplishment.

The day was full. There was coffee and a granola bar. Ads were delivered and new projects were set up to be approved. The best part was that the red pen came out several times and things were crossed off the week’s to-to list. Dang, I love when I can pull out the red pen and strike through completed list items. 

There were a couple errands planned for lunchtime – the jeweler for the batteries for the two watches in the work bag for several weeks (finally) and LaLa Books to buy the second book in the series I’m currently reading. That’s when I discovered my wallet was not in my bag. Nor was it in my coat pocket. I was downtown without a single cent or financial card in my possession. 

Delicious reward.

The best guess was that the wallet was at home on the kitchen table. The batteries and book mission was cancelled, although a walk was still in the running (hah) to enjoy the much more comfortable sunny, wind-free 35-degree day. That didn’t happen either.

In the success column, a colleague and I took apart and bagged the Christmas tree that has been standing naked since last week. Ornaments were organized in storage tubs and boxes. Exactly the sort of practical tasks I’m good at while at work and never get around to doing at home.

Back at home, it was time to dive into the cabinet and the freezer and explore the supper options. The winners in the supper wheel of fortune were a block of slightly bland mac and cheese from the freezer topped with chili pesto. The chili pesto was exactly the kick the mac and cheese needed. It was delicious.

 I would eat mac and cheese with chili pesto again tomorrow, but the pesto jar is now empty and I can’t remember where I bought it. On the bright side, I love a challenge. Luckily, there are only maybe four stores it could have come from. The challenge is accepted.