|07:54 am - Christmas at Ground Zero|
The switch has been flipped. I'm now officially suffering from travel anxiety.
Ow, my eyes. The lights just switched on here at work.
Leaving work early, I drove to drop something off for a friend of mine's husband. They live out in BFE (technical term), well, I drove past their exit, way past, and then had to come back. When I got there, I wasn't at their house, I was in a hospital. I walked into a room, and there were some of my coworkers, sitting on the bed chatting. I chatted with them a few minutes, then they went away and I was alone in the room.
Then a friend of mine came in. I don't know how the conversation got started, but we were shortly arging about which of us was having the worst day. I debated with myself a moment when she was telling me why her day was the worst, and decided that being sucked into this conversation was proof that my day was going worse, and I resolved to end it by not debating it further. I nodded compassionately or whatever and shortly hoppie joined us.
He had a sheath of papers in one hand and a bouquet of flowers wrapped in cellophane in the other. He kissed me and wished me a happy anniversary (?!) and showed me the papers. He'd written a story for the Vorkosigan RPG that heavily promoted Ivan's character development as a present for me. (and of course the flowers.)
Then we went outside and got mugged, but then we were back inside and it was like that didn't happen. My parents joined us and my mother said, "Well, now that you've been married two years, are you pregnant."
And then she started lecturing me on the need to have sex more often. Major squick.
Hoppie and I both managed to blame each other, and Laina chimed in with what I thought was the funniest excuse ever. "Men don't give us enough warning before they want to have sex! He wants to have sex after I've had a big meal. Tell me in advance! I would have had a salad!"
"Yeah!" I agreed. "And don't ask me to have sex before the dishes are clean. I have so much to do. Let me accomplish something so I'll feel satisfied and interested."
Anyway, despite some humour, I woke up at 4:30 with my stomach all in knots and my heart racing. I read a little bit, but that bothered hoppie (although he lied and said it didn't. That's so sweet.) He asked me to tell him my dream. Told me it would be okay. I told him I thought travel anxiety had officially started and I felt stressed. I gave up trying to sleep around 5:30. And when I went to kiss him goodbye, he asked me what time it was and when I told him, he patted my hand and said, "You tried." That was sweet too.
Additionally, I talked to him last night about getting (myself) a massage for my birthday. He laughed. He's like, "You do remember that your body aches whenever anyone tries to massage you for longer than a minute, right?"
"Yeah, I told Delia about that. She said there are alternatives to deep-tissue massage."
"She'd better have some alternatives to shallow-tissue massage too."
"She has hot stones, too. That sounds soothing"
A bark of laughter. "I would pay money to see that."
Current Mood: tired