Sometimes I struggle with the question, “What should I be doing with my life?” And by "sometimes" I mean pretty much all the time. I try to talk to my husband and he’s pretty good for about ten minutes. Then his attention begins to wane. It’s like I’ve overstayed my welcome.
The kiss of death is when he says, “I just want you to be happy.” Translation: “I give up. . . I don’t know what you want me to say anymore… I need to get to sleep.”
I try to make him understand that I need to have a creative outlet in my life. He tells me to use my creativity on the dishes.
I stacked those bitches like Stonehedge.