Breathing my Mind into Your Face

I’m sitting behind my desk with my gaze tilted rightward in order to observe the words my fingers punch on my big monitor. My right heel taps continuously on the carpet as the Adderall, nicotine, and caffeine course through me. Necessary supplements, without which I’d never leave the recliner. My hunger is returning now that I’ve processed my giant 11pm ice cream sundae from last night. 

The last week has been marked by the relationship drama of friends and the binge drinking of my wife. Last Thursday she had a derby themed book club party at the local brewery. The Pistons had a big game and she said she’d be back to watch the 2nd half with me. When the game was over she texted to ask if she could bring a couple of friends home from the bar with her to hang on the screened in porch. I would need to remove myself from the basement. After the girls left we watched a show together. I hate hanging with her when she’s drunk because of the irrational anger and inability to have a conversation that makes any sense. No major fireworks, but it was annoying behavior after the previous Thursday’s adventure to a random rich divorced dude’s house with her hairdresser after the bar closed. 

On Saturday I had to volunteer at a festival raising money for the local public schools. I also squeezed in 9 holes in between shifts. Wife was hanging with a girlfriend at the house who is about to enter the divorce process amidst lots of drama and behind the scenes legal wrangling. I’m not supposed to know anything about the friend’s situation but my wife needs my ears to release herself from the drama she’s been trusted with. She’s been living way too vicariously and allowing her friend’s situation to impact her behavior. We were watching that new “Four Seasons” show on Netflix and she couldn’t finish the episode because of Steve Carell being selfish and wanting to divorce his wife. The other men in our orbit are making it pretty easy for me to look like a decent guy. What with all the affairs, lying, and self-centerdness so many neighborhood dudes are getting into. 

When I got back from the festival wife and her friend were pretty drunk. There were 3.5 empty wine bottles scattered on the porch. Friend wasn’t able to walk or talk. I was going to drive her and her kids home but my wife decided she should do it. I didn’t argue with her even though I should’ve, because she shouldn’t have been driving. But I didn’t feel like making the errand so I didn’t put up much of a fight. She’d already made a big deal when I moved the carseat from her friend’s car to ours because I wanted to put it on the same side of the car as it was in the friends car. Just a completely pointless misunderstanding caused by booze. Saturday night after my wife abruptly stopped watching Four Seasons because men are assholes, she went upstairs and started watching Saturday Night Live. I went upstairs to go to bed and asked her to watch the show in the basement, no different than what she asks every night. She told me she wouldn’t be going to the basement and that I could go fuck myself when I tried to make her understand the hypocrisy of not going downstairs when I do it every night for her so as not to wake sleepers up. She wanted to argue and kept repeating, “I’ve done nothing” over and over. I told her that getting fucked up and treating me like shit is something. It sucks because then I start acting shittier toward her because I’ve got some license to act up given her behavior. I wonder what sort of stuff we’d get into if we both decided to abstain from any form of chemical infusion. I’m sure we’ll never find out.