I’ve Seen This Movie Before (And It Doesn’t End Well)

I’m going to go out on a limb here. I don’t write much about my husband and my marriage. I occasionally mention Rich in my blogs – that mysterious man who makes funny comments as he accompanies me on our way through life’s adventures. But honestly, there are times when he is truly a pain in my ass. Last night was one of those times.

I had an awesome day. I received a message through the world wide web that made my heart skip a beat. I can’t say anymore about this. I don’t want to jinx my Internet karma. It is still so ephemeral. A tweet away. We connect through cyberspace. The cosmos is at our fingertips, dancing across the keyboard, strangers in the night, no glances shared just private messages, something so exciting, so inviting.

Yes, I am channeling Ol’ Blue Eyes. I am being cryptic, but it’s all so mysterious. A tease. A fleeting moment. 140 characters.

As I said the other day, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know.

Whatever. Back to my husband. He was not as excited about the very flattering and encouraging message I received. He never reads my blogs. He often hassles me when I am Tweeting, blogging, Pinning, Instagramming et al. What are you doing on your IPhone? How do you sit there all day typing away on that computer?

Funny he never stopped by my cubicle when I was crunching numbers 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week, 50 weeks a year to ask that question. Back then he never worried about my posture or my lack of exercise or my eye strain.

He was hyper, he wanted to talk about himself. We were staying at another friend’s house, yet another bed we’d soon be sharing, moving from one place to another. #OnTheRoadAgain to hashtag the situation. We have been on an extended #RoadTrip and #TheRoadGoesOnForever. But I am a gypsy, happiest when I’m on the road.

The gypsy flies from coast to coast…Bearing sorrow, having fun.

We decided to eat out at a place in Epping. The center of the universe. Or so it said on a bumper sticker I once saw on the bedroom wall in an old house that I have no idea what I was doing in except for the fact that it looked like an interesting fixer upper, which is where all the trouble began with my husband and me, but that is a blog for another day.

My husband is a perfectionist. A my way or the highway kind of guy. In his opinion, no one knows how to sweep or rake properly. There is a correct way to move a broom across the floor or gather leaves. If you do it wrong you get the look. Then he grabs the broom from your hands and does it himself.

It’s the same with painting and any number of things. It’s why he works alone.

Earlier in the day, I was folding drop cloths. Apparently I was folding them the wrong way. He came over to micromanage. “Does it really matter?” I asked. “They will still get folded in the end. Don’t you have more important things to do?”

So the day went. On and on. #TheRoadGoesOnForever.

But then I got the exciting message. I shared the news as we drove to the restaurant. A double rainbow appeared over the Merrimack River. A sign. Good things were aligning. For once in my life the universe might be working with me instead of against me.

We are back at work today. I’ve seen this movie before and it never ends well. So far I have set up the Husky work lamp in the wrong place and didn’t spread the drop cloth correctly – there were a few wrinkles. But I did get the doorknobs back on without a hitch or a look. So I opened my laptop and began to spill it all over the page like the paint bucket I almost knocked over. Key word here: Almost.

There are always wrinkles. Mistakes are made. No one’s perfect. Painting and crunching numbers never got us anywhere, just one more silver dollar for a piggy bank full of dreams. But I am chasing a new dream now and I’m bound to keep on riding ’til I find it.

I turn on Pandora. Music to work by. Gregg Allman is singing Sweet Melissa. The gypsy flies from coast to coast. This movie just might have a happy ending.