It wasn't the Grinch that stole Christmas

Today I wanted to leap out of a moving car.

Sometimes being partnered with somebody is so hard. Lately I have been rehearsing the marriage vow promises over and over again in my head. "For richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. For better or worse." Who made these vows up? I guess since they were used in my marriage ceremony I agreed to them but really, who started them? Was it God? Was it just some romantic and sentimental priest that was in charge of ceremonies and their lingo.

Bart and I spend so much energy just trying to make days work. Because it takes energy to agree with him. And we do agree to work on agreeing but little else. If we already agreed on things we might be able to put our energies into something else, experience synergy and enjoy the moments. Instead we fight to come to some sort of union of thoughts but then we are both so tired and still have pockets of resentment that things are always bittersweet.

Especially at Christmas. Simply put, Bart is a material whore. And he loves the actual spending of money. Anxiety ridden and a cheap ass, I do not love the actual spending of money. Could we be any farther apart? Couple that with my trying to work as little as possible and him thinking that time not spent working or snowmobiling is wasted, well, you got some real holiday spirit going on at the Peterson house.

Eggnog, anybody?