Sunday, September 09, 2007

it only comes out as a yawn

I could have used another couple of weeks of summer to finish getting the house unpacked and organized before starting school. By the time I get home at the end of a workday, the last thing I want to do is unpack. Shawn is the same. We are terribly lazy.

We had this idea that we'd unpack a little bit each day but that didn't happen. Once the weekend was over we completely stopped. So we unpacked a little more this weekend, but again, not nearly enough. I want to be done.

Shawn bought a gigantic television set that makes me want to barf every time I look at it because it's so ugly. I don't really mean that it's uglier than any other television, just that a 46 inch television is such an absurd and hideous thing, impossible to tuck away - and stealing focus away from anything else I could put in that room to try and make it pretty. Shawn claims we can get a cabinet that would hide it nicely but for now it's the focal point of the entire lower level of the house, and I hate it. Of course, when his friends come over and see it they think it's fabulous and Shawn smiles knowingly because this is just further proof that his wife is insane. Normal people think it's a good thing to have a living room that looks like a movie theatre. The only thing missing is the sticky floor. I plan to spend my life in the backyard. When the rain starts I shall have to live inside my car.

We've been extremely sociable since we took possession of the house and have spent a lot of time with the inlaws- many dinners, many breakfasts - and also had some of Shawn's work friends over who've brought wives that wanted to talk to me. I've complied nicely. But it's a little strenuous given my proclivity for hermit-ism.

In fact, as I type this, Shawn is on his way to pick up his father from work and then we are going over to their place for dinner. I do, in fact, enjoy their company (as well as enjoying Shawn's father's cooking), so I don't think I mean to complain about our sudden new social life. (I don't think many people would consider hanging out with their parents to be a social life anyway, but for us, spending time with anyone besides each other is a whole new thing.) It's a big change.

I think my point is that there's been a lot of change. Most of it is good, like the beautiful yard and privacy from the neighbours, the nice house and the new job, the good weather and the green green green everywhere... Some of it hasn't been so great, like the stupid tv and the enormous man eating slugs (well, maybe they don't really eat men, I'm not sure). But overall the changes are mostly positive. And yet even good changes can be tiring. It's a lot to adjust to.


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3 comments:

Anonymous said...

As we grow older, one of life's tricks we learn is how to see people. Their real faces, you know. Not the hair and noses, the clothes, the voice, the car. Not even the charm or lack of it.

Well, that thought is a work in progress, but it makes me think of you, because seeing what is there and not looking through the eyes of others, is one of your great gifts.

The weird kid who always shakes hands, for example. In your eyes, it's less social ineptness and more of a change to connect with him physically.

C.S. Lewis asked, "How can we see the gods face to face until we have faces?" But our more immediate task is to see each other, our brothers and sisters, face to face.

j.elliot said...

one starving musician came by to say:
most of those guys would probably trade their wives for a 46 inch TV, so your husband is pretty lucky, he has both.

j.e.

mischief said...

And speaking of John Malkovich, there's a half-floor world in my basement with carefully painted walls and closet spaces and someone has precisely measured and cut baseboard and even added some fine details. All this in a space in which you cannot stand up. I love that movie.