I'm having one of my "I really want to hide under a rock and not be found" days. I'm hyper-critical of everything I'm saying because I'm not feeling very intelligent, which is dangerous for me because I have that foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, so if I'm not careful I'll end up accidentally insulting someone.
I find people get touchy sometimes,but en masse as everyone gets a mood at the same time and are easily ticked off and can't take a joke. I'm not a great jokester, but I put in the occasional effort. I think it's just more of a problem where people don't get my humor. They don't understand me. Some people are really just too serious, and I admit this has been a problem here in Scotland, can't remember it happening back in the USA where witty offhanded asides are applauded.
Anyways, I'm feeling I should hole up and read a book, keep quiet and just make sarky comments in my head. I sense that someone nearby is going to erupt with misunderstanding at any moment - so I'll keep schtum, because I don't know which "who" it'll be. The real problem is, that the worst blow-ups come when I don't really say anything at all, it's as if folks are just looking, searching for a reason to throw a wingy.
"It may be good for you, but not everyone has it so easy, you know." stomps off in a huff.
Oh yes, that's happened. I shit you not. I get crap like that all the fucking time. I blame sugar, the Scots are addicted to it - they are candy freaks. They eat too much, and then get cranky. I just hate that it always seems so easy and acceptable to be cranky at me. Then again, I am known to bait people, and by people I mean my Husband. This was us last night...
It's 10:30 and I'm reading a book in bed. I can hear Hubs downstairs locking up and then coming upstairs. I decide right then and there, I'm going to annoy him. It's a conscious decision, but I don't know what I'll do. When you've been with someone as long as we've been together, you can twist their moods within seconds, or with just one word. Or a look.
He comes in and walks around to his side of the bed. I eyeball him the whole time, staring. When he looks back at me, I casually drop my head back to my book. The game is on.
"Are you going to read?" I ask.
"No, I'm tired, I'll just go to sleep."
I close my book with a sigh. I drop it on the floor next to my bed. I reach over and turn out the light, before he's actually in the bed. "You can still read if you want to, It's ok." He says and I reply with a flat, "No," but I'm grinning, and because it's dark he doesn't know that.
We lay there in quietly in the dark for about thirty seconds, and then he sighs, pulls himself up, and makes a clumsy attempt to give me a kiss goodnight, he lands one on my forehead.
"What was that?" I ask.
"I was kissing you goodnight."
"That's not how you kiss your wife, you kissed me on the forehead; you can't kiss your wife on the forehead goodnight. That's how you kiss the kids goodnight, but not me."
"Well I found your forehead first." he whines.
"Are you saying I have a big forehead?"
"No, I'm not say...Oh you're wicked!" and he begins to tickle me, which is 100% against the rules and I tell him so, because if I get tickled at bedtime, I'll get all wound up and it'll be ages before I get to sleep (which of course, serves me right)...there's blanket stealing, cold feet on warm bits, more insults and feigned hurt pride.
This kind of banter went on for about another ten minutes, until I was told to shut up and let him sleep. I was quiet for about a minute before I began laughing and snorting into my pillow, the giggles in full force. "What's wrong with you now?" I couldn't even answer him I was laughing so hard. I ended up having to grab my book and go downstairs to read again until I was calm enough to fall asleep myself. I feel bad for him sometimes, I really do, to be stuck with a weirdo like me.
But really, he asks for it.