On disagreement

Chris has been ignoring me and treating me coldly since this very morning. It’s his special way of saying “this is what you get for not beating my dare”.My fault or not, I just can’t make a 5-minute bath. Period.

I feel deprived of time conforming to this kind of dare. I just can’t do it because I chose not to. Sounds harsh, selfish, unreasonable, call it what you want. I’ll still not give in to it.

Taking a good, long, relaxing bath is a treat for myself. Not that I went brouhaha in the office or been haggled by so many things that tend to snatch sanity out of me. Well, yeah, sort of. It’s just my time for a peaceful reunion of my cluttered mind and the calmed one (two minds? Smack a butt and talk reality!)

Whenever the drops of water intimately unite with my troubled mind and my weary body, there’s this inexplicable euphoria.

A ritual of contemplation and reflection,

of looking back what I did great or worse for today,

of analyzing,

or remembering the funny line a co-blogger dropped,

of visualizing the scenario of the novel I’ve been reading…
of thinking.

What hurts (making me slightly furious) me is that he’s stopping me for doing things I want and is important for me. Imagine he is timing my bath! C’mon!
I might sound a bit overreacting and dramatic. I cannot blame you or Chris.
Maybe I just cannot… whatever.

Chris is far more important that this petty bath.
I just wish he comes to terms with this caprice of mine. Or might as well this afterthought makes me lessen this ‘moment with myself’ time.
Or we can meet halfway, ‘ya know?
Ah relationships! Where do we really draw the line here?

***

Anyway, I’m almost through with the novel I’ve been trying to finish since Stone Age.
Its title is “Sushi for Beginners” by Marian Keyes. A story of three English women in an Irish setting (a kingdom of boredom so as the character says).

Two of them are working for a Magazine called Colleen. “A slave driving b*t**”, a “world class worrier” and “a discontented

mother” intertwined by their own passions and life atrocities.

I cannot really say it’s a page turner until I came on the 504th page. The story started to be real interesting from there.

With new words in my mental vocabulary such as “fecking” (the f-word in Irish colloquial), sacked (fired someone,) and Ijeet (colloquial for idiot), the book by Keyes has been a cool treat and a guide to a life light years far from mine. It’s shouting between the lines ‘I’m Britiish. And this is an English world. Feck off’ for crying out loud!

Lolz. A big lolz!