Entry 1     11:11 a.m. 

Before 9 last night I went to bed. I was tired. Jenny got home from Sequim, and we had promised to take Abby to dinner to celebrate her taking the PSAT, and we went to a Thai restaurant and came home. It was fine. I wasn't chatty, but not sullen. Things got weird when we got to the restaurant and Abby and Jenny took their seats across from each other in the booth, and as I sat down next to Jenny she said to Abby, "Do you want me to sit by you?"  Abby declined.  I had hesitated, although neither of them noticed, as I approached the booth, and had decided to sit next to Jenny rather than escalate right there with Abby present. I didn't want her involved in the nonsense.  We chit-chatted during dinner and on the way home. 

The Grassy Knoll

We got home close to 9. I'd been up off and on since 3 a.m. thanks to the dogs, and was ready to crawl into bed, and I did just that, laid my body down.  Jenny was in the bath. I had a sense it might upset her if I happened to fall asleep, but I really had no desire or need to interact with her, given recent events. I did leave my door open, so she could have walked down the hall had the mood arisen, and said goodnight.  Who knows, maybe she did AND maybe there was no second gunman in Dealy Plaza, we will never know. 

I feel as if not only does she not care that she is hurting me, but is offended when I call it out or am angry about it. Because I feel this way, I was aware that if I didn't say goodnight it would be a problem. Once we have entered the high antics of this space opera melodrama, I can say with about 100% confidence that the overwrought texts will proliferate.  And, sure as shit, or like a crow who ate ex lax, the texts keep dropping:

Any peruser of my journal entries would recognize this frequent threat of moving out is so common it became almost a mantra for a time last fall and winter. I saw the adjacent text this morning, started to answer, and then gray-rocked. The facts didn't matter. 

The missive is comical if you think about it. I stay and care for her despite her affair, and she threatens to move out because I failed to direct a social nicety to her. Who is this person to whom I am married?
Entry 2     4:32 p.m.
This day has been a very busy work day. Not a terrible thing. Jenny has been out most of the afternoon with her friend Jeanne.  The dogs have been a handful, making my day more difficult-- mostly more pleasant--but I need help. I understand Jenny is sick. I understand she needs to see friends, but this dog was a gift to her, and I am the one who wakes up at night and takes her out. I am the one wakes up in the morning and takes her out. I feed the dogs and let them out.  It is all me. Granted, when she is home she will get up and let them out, on occassion. When. She. Is. Home. So, mostly me.  And, I don't mind it a lot of the time--she is dying and out trying to see people. And maybe moderation isn't a thing for her, but given my load, it would not be crazy of me to ask her to help.  So, I did. The response I got back is "We need to hire a dog walker," she "can't walk them." Oh, and also "I'm busy with Jeanne."

The dogs were up before 6:00 a.m. today, which means I was as well,  I started working at 8:00. Its after 4:30 p.m. now, and I am maybe done (nope, I worked until 6). I worked through lunch. I may not love my job, but I love being busy at work, so this new level of activity is welcomed. But it makes it incredibly hard to get work done at times with the dogs barking, entering my meetings, begging to play, to go outside, to get love from me . Also, there are days and times Jenny can't help, when she has just had chemo, when she has terrible neuropathy.  But she soldiers on many days, like today.  She has friends to see.  Meanwhile, I will feed Willow for the third time today, as I do every day--mixing a special concoction of meat, rice and kibble -- then go outside with them and hang out, rain or shine for a good while.  I am glad I named this journal what I did. 

Willow, btw, eats 4.5 cups of food a day, and is still ravenous and thin as a rail.




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