Let's face it: relationships are hard, and they take a lot of work. Constant work. From the beginning. The closer you get to someone, the more likely you're going to piss each other off. It would be nice if we could take all our unpleasantness out on complete strangers, but there's really no satisfaction in that.
This morning, I think I may have permanently scarred my budding relationship with the local fire chief, a relationship I have been nurturing with great care and unbelievable patience for over a year. My heart was already going pitter pat as we walked into Starbucks together at the crack of dawn, my tongue stumbling over my words as I tried to converse. (Since when is "how are you?" a difficult question to answer?)
Our Starbucks was unusually crowded today, with more than a few unfamiliar faces scattered among the regulars. I scoped out the seating, noting that to avoid the crazy chatty woman who camps out looking for prey every morning I would have to box out the chief and steal his favorite chair. You'd think I would have learned by now about compromise and unselfishness and fair play, but I guess sometimes you really can't teach an old dog new tricks. If one of us was going to have to go down, it was going to have to be him. Sorry my love.
Clearly, some of us just aren't cut out for commitment. I kind of admire Kim for realizing so soon that she is one of those people and for sparing her new hubby the pain and torture of a long term marriage. He will survive. He's going to have every single woman in the Midwest showing up on his doorstep with homemade casseroles and cookies and promises of all sorts of goodies. As for Kim, well, she'll always have the dresses. And the ring. And the gifts. And the gorgeous spread in People Magazine. Everybody wins.
I feel kind of bad that the pair couldn't spend Halloween together, but Day of the Dead is being celebrated as it should be.
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