I am in a total daze today after getting up at five to swim before heading to work. We had our golf league last night, too, so I was up later than anticipated. I need to be in bed by 9:30 these days it seems. Old lady, here.
I didn't even want to do golf league this year, mostly because it is almost impossible for me to get all the way from my office to the golf course in less than an hour and a half or so, given that I have to drive there at rush hour to make a tee-time between four and six in the afternoon. I end up needing to leave work more than two hours early, which is hard when you are important, or more correctly, would like to be someday. I told P I would pass on golf this year, dreaming of the quiet solo Tuesday evenings I would enjoy drinking wine, reading, weeding the garden, playing with the dogs, etc., etc. But he signed me up anyway, stating that it was his treat. I am always getting treated to things I don't especially want.
At least I know that he wants to spend time with me.
That being said, I had a really good time with P last night. We are both terrible golfers who have occasional shining moments on the course. We had very few of those moments last night. Luckily the team we were supposed to be playing no-showed, so it ended up being more like a date than a regular league night. It was actually nice. We caught up and drank beer and made derogatory Tiger Woods jokes at each other's expense.
Sadly though, for us on a date, this can be a rarity.
We get way too few dates. Mostly this is because we are slaves to our jobs and constantly booked with social stuff. However, sometimes I think we avoid dates because we frequently end up in fights while we are in public together, just the two of us. Does this happen to anyone else? Or are we doomed?
I feel like most couples happily plan and look forward to dates with each other, many even making cutesy references to "Date Night" in front of other couples, or marking their calendars with red heart stickers or some other ridiculousness like that. I dread it. We argue over where to go and what to do, or sometimes we just argue over who's turn it is to choose where to go or what to do. Then we get there, settle in to dinner at some restaurant that only one of us is really into due to the fact that we are complete polar opposites, and then we sit and make small talk until the shit hits the fan. Because it is often the first chance we've had in days or weeks to really sit down and talk, it starts to seem like as good a time as any to air some grievances. Then someone gets pissed, someone cries (ok, that would be me) and someone begins the silent treatment. Of course, we end up having a terrible time. Seriously, is there something wrong with us?
We argue normally, sure. But most days, over dinner or laying in bed or during any other average moment of an average day, we engage in real and interesting conversation. And we make each other laugh and smile and we goof off and flirt. All of this happens regularly around the house, in the midst of the daily grind. But sit us down in a French restaurant with a couple hours on our hands and force us to "relax", and it isn't long before we are at it. Quietly and through gritted teeth, of course, to maintain the appearance of being a happy couple out on adorable, red-heart-sticker, cutesy effing Date Night.
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