15-04.30.88 in Book Two: The Fifteenth Year of the Third Millennium of the Common Era

If I were still titling these entries with proper titles instead of trying to make them look like “Star Dates” or whatever I’d probably call this one

Reflections on Discontentment & Irritation

but of course even that sounds more like some Neurological or Psychological study or something..

Anyway… I have about three primary things in my head but who knows.... when I go to write ‘em down… some things become bigger in my head, some things become smaller… some concerns explode while others diminish. It is a common concern for writers, I’m sure. And as how I am feeling and the lateness of my writing and my continued struggles with sleep… I may not communicate as effectively or as succinctly as I should.

Point One

I spent my evening doing legal paperwork. Some of it, honestly, was frustrating and confusing. Because… this is my profession… this is my future. I have to fill out these forms to keep my license and I have to organize CLEs and I have to look for work. I’m not saying it is stressful but… yeah, when you add the Legal Paperwork stuff onto my work day… I was doing a “Law and Law Paperwork Day” of about 11 hours.

Wife comes home while I’m working and instantly starts complaining about how her feet hurt and her legs hurt. Okay. That happens. I mean, she works retail… she’s been making these same complaints for 2 weeks… it is what it is. I’ll admit… due to my lifetime of constant pain, I’m not as “rush to see what the matter is”. Plus I am trying to do what therapists etc have suggested. If Wife is going to come home in a rage due to how much she hates her job… I’m going to give her some time to cool off. Because, for a lot of reasons, I’m just not going to accept it anymore. I don’t care how much you hate your job… you’re not going to come home and treat me like shit to make yourself feel better. Anyway, I’m working on all of this legal paperwork and Wife is complaining about her body pains. I’m engaging in the conversation. I’m still working on my paperwork, but I’m engaging in the conversation. She mentions something about a leg pain… she is usually complaining about her hip pinching, knees hurting, shins sore or feet aching… I ask if she means her shins; as those were bothering her a lot last week. She bites my head off because she was talking about her knees. BOOM… this time, I don’t just accept it. I (perhaps rudely) treat her like a child by stopping the conversation dead in its tracks and tell her, “I don’t care how sore you are or how much your job angers you. You are not going to take out your anger from work on me simply for me engaging in the conversation. I asked a clarifying question. That does not give you the right nor permission to explode simply to make yourself feel better.”

And… like a child… she got quiet, left the room. I finished my paperwork and joined her in the living room and asked if she wanted to watch Instant Netflix, a DvD or whatever… not getting an answer and not really expecting one. I start clearing off the chair that Wife uses to pile blankets (because it has a foot rest and I figured Wife would benefit from that) and she can’t help but express her irritation. So, again, like she were a child… I explain to her that I’m moving the blankets she keeps in the chair because this chair seemed like the most logical place for her to sit with her leg complaints. And the rest of the evening was “beck and call.” Can you fetch me my purse? Can you make me some hot pockets? Can you make me a drinky?”

And it struck me… this is my future with this woman. She never once asked me how my day was. She never sought any information about how I was feeling… how my pain has been… what documents I was working on… anything. I don’t exist as an individual for her, I’m not another being that shares space… she views me simply in regards to what she needs from me at the time. No wonder my needs don’t/won’t get met. I’m not seen as an individual who has needs… and when I share my needs, if they don’t sound like something she would likely do anyway- then it doesn’t matter because I’m being too demanding for my station. Perhaps that isn’t fair. Perhaps I’m responding emotionally and mis-analyzing. But it certainly gave me, gives me, something to think about. Is this really the kind of relationship… the kind of woman… I want waiting for me at home when I’m working full time? Or is this likely to make me the kind of guy that takes on all of the hardest case-loads simply so that I don’t have to come home?

Point Two

It seems strange to have this point follow the preceding items. But perhaps that simply demonstrates my ineffectiveness as a writer. Because I’ve been thinking about this for a while and during work (because of a few interesting things) some of those thoughts came into clearer focus…, maybe not super clear focus but clearer.

Before I continue, I want to define a phrase that I’ve been thinking of lately that may be misinterpreted. “Sexual Being.” When the term “sex” is used in any way, many audiences assume it to mean the specific function of sex or sexuality. Therefore, “Sexual Being” is “One who has sex, is sex, or exudes sex” just as “sexual attraction” is considered “one is sexually pleasing or is a sexual object to another.” What I’m going to discuss here in regards to sex, sexuality, sexual beings, etc is not necessarily intended to mean that. Hopefully, that comes through. If not, please don’t get offended or upset and please don’t pretend I’m being a sexist pig and objectifying women… I’m not. Don’t presume I’m being a dick just because I’m having troubles expressing myself.

Anyway… I have a lot of very attractive friends. I’ll admit it. Frankly, that shouldn’t be too surprising as it is rare for people to intentionally spend time around individuals that repulse them in some way. However, partly because of my own weird way of selecting friends… I have friends from all walks of life. The Industrial Goth; the Pristine Goody Goody; the Suburbanite; the list of meaningless titles and genres could continue for a while. And each individual, as with each individual niche, has the specific elements that suggest beauty and/or attractiveness. And I see and appreciate in kind. For instance, the make up/clothing/hair of Industrial Goth is quite different than the make up/clothing/hair of Suburbanite. I love the look, but if Suburbanite suddenly wore it… I wouldn’t think “Yeah, yeah, that’s hot” (okay, I totally would but) I’d think “Why the change, is something wrong, does she need to talk?” To be clear, I’m not pigeonholing people! If my Suburbanite friends started wearing neo-Industrial gas masks, fury goth boots, and heavy eye makeup… if it looked good on them, awesome. But… each niche, each culture, has its own beauty standards. I guess that is the point I am trying to make. I am lucky enough to have friends who have selected various niche cultures and who typically adhere to the clothing and makeup styles associated with those niches.

And it says something to me. I appreciate the effort. Even if the effort isn’t considered successful or even if the effort is minimal… it is the effort, ultimately, that I find attractive. For instance… I have a friend who is about 6 foot even. Long dark hair. Rarely wears make up. Rarely dresses in anything exotic or flattering. But she is beautiful because her niche and her selected culture is Yoga and Aerials. Seriously… she is constantly sharing information about studios and (maybe too often) posting videos of her doing some amazing Pole work in her exercise classes. I have another friend who is about 4 foot eleven. Short hair that is a different color every day. Wears a little too much make up. Constantly tries to look like the cover for a Vogue Emo magazine. And she is beautiful to me. In other words… whether athletic, emo, girly, butch, whatever… I tend to see the beauty.

Like my trainee today. Actually… my trainee at work today was absolutely “my type” if I were to have one. Short, intelligent, friendly Hawaiian. Full, long dark hair; pronounced Asian (Asiatic) features. Professional looking but still stiletto heels; pants and a nice suit top… but her fingernails were well manicured and painted. In other words, I’m not a “dumb guy” enough to believe this woman falls out of bed this way. But in a lot of ways, I appreciate the work and thought she put in to look professional, attractive, and still keep elements of her own fashion and personality in her appearance.

And with Summer coming up… these kinds of observations will get worse in general. Because… summer equals shorts, swim suits, and exercise. And yes… I am one of those guys that can see a sexy summer outfit and immediately get knocked on my ass. And I honestly worry about things like that for this coming summer. Because… while this whole thing certainly is not a revelation to me… I understand why it comes to mind so often right now.

It is because… that isn’t my wife. In any way. At all. She doesn’t put much effort in. She wears the same bra for six days in a row. She doesn’t wear anything but polo shirts and khakis… pretty much at all. She doesn’t wear make up anymore. She hardly even combs her hair. There are still elements to her that I find beautiful… I’ll always love her eyes; I’ll love her smile and her skin; but over all? It is just another one of those things. Call me a jerk if you want; but it is another one of those things in this marriage that makes me think I’m not all that important in it.

Point Three

I’m into rambling territory now and should try for another quick few minutes of sleep if possible; but I’ve been thinking about this and wanted to throw it up here. I’ve been thinking about the 7 Deadly Sins lately as an interesting allegory for humanity and the building blocks of emotions and strife. Also, of course, as an exercise in reflection. And I”m trying to figure something out.

• Lust. I used to be really worried about this one. But lately, honestly not so much. Because… hell, porn is irritating to me now. I get frustrated and upset with it because… I don’t want my sexual life to be my hand and a computer. I want a fulfilling relationship and sexual conduct. I’m not controlled by my lust of the flesh; I’m just sad about it.

• Pride. Perhaps the sneakiest element, it is always difficult for me to judge. Many people would say the willingness to ask for assistance is a way to gauge pride… if so, I’m good. But pride is also feeling superior to others and… I do have a problem with that. Ironically, I’m not so worried about Pride but it is something I acknowledge that I should’t take my eyes off of.

• Gluttony. I’ve honestly never seen the point to making this one separate from Greed. Gluttony, to me, is a need to consume. So is Greed, right? But if we look to Gluttony as primarily food/drink concepts… I don’t have to worry about food (at all) but I should really worry about drink. I’d be a lot healthier, and maybe a lot happier, if I didn’t drink as much as I do. And that is something I really have to admit, face, and come to terms with.

• Sloth… my sloth is born from laziness but also from fear. Sloth is something I honestly do worry about.

But here’s where it gets interesting… There are 3 left and, I think for me… they are all completely wrapped up into one giant knot.

Envy, Wrath, Greed.

I want better… I want what others have… I’m envious of those with better bodies than I have; I’m envious of those with better relationships, better jobs, more money, etcetera. And from that envy stems a lot of my rage/wrath. But what I’m having trouble figuring out is the separation between Envy and Greed here. Am I greedy for things; which leads to being envious..... or am I envious of so many things, it seems that I’m greedy for that which I don’t have. See… it may seem silly but the Spiritual Chicken-Egg nature of the whole thing frustrates and fascinates me!

Brief Aside: The Secrets of NIMH is leaving the Netflix Instant Que and my wife had never seen it. So we’re watching it now and I am much more capable now of seeing some of the nuanced themes in this film. One of my favorites: The rats become super intelligent… and ultimately must decide whether intelligence is ethics. The decision ultimately (seems to me) to be that the ability to “know better” is meaningless without action. You can know what the right thing to do is but knowing isn’t enough. If you know what the right thing is and chose it… that is moral and ethical.... if you know what the right thing is and chose not to do… that is immoral and unethical. That would be (my interpretation) of the theme of the movie… Evil (as we understand it) involves knowledge and action.