Meanwhile, here at Casita Nueva, Jim is less together day by day and I am mostly bereft. Also flummoxed and annoyed. It is difficult here at home. Jim sets the thermostat to heat even though it is summer; puts the yogurt in the freezer (I think because it looks like ice cream, but, then, he puts ice cream in the refrigerator where it melts). Washes clean dishes but doesn’t put them away. Does not understand why Magnus has two food bowls (one for kibble and one for wet canned food). Insists on pouring milk on the kibble. Refuses to close closet doors — I think he needs to have the contents displayed so he knows what is in there. Anyway, it’s gotten difficult for me to keep up with this nonsense gracefully.
But, it is summer and I love sitting on the lushly planted patio with Jim and Mr. Maggie.
I do understand (and sympathize endlessly) that these are quotidian frustrations, but also I wish there was a way for you to let yourself off the hook, and let Jim off the hook too. It feels to me (feel free to ignore these two cents, please) as if you, dear Kat, are allowing yourself to be constantly surprised, irked, flummoxed, and otherwise upset, horrified, saddened, and maddened by the now entirely predictable behaviors. It's got to be draining to be reacting to each misplaced object or forgotten detail with fresh horror. Is there a way to channel the adrenalin in another direction? Make a bingo game board for categories of these moments large and small? Or perhaps more ideally don't inventory, react with less emotional vigor altogether? Wouldn't it be a relief to expect the unexpected with less of that charged unhappiness? Of course it's unhappymaking, but is there a way to just float in the lowered reality gravity alongside Jim? I hope you know this is not a criticism by a long shot, just a sympathetic existential question. Love to you dear Kat!
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