It's just all the crap I usually have to do for work. Usually, it doesn't bother me. Increasingly, lately, it's been getting under my skin.
The bottom line is that on Valentine's Day night, I had to be out of town at the team district wrestling tournament. Don't get me wrong. I like wrestling. It's a fun sport once you understand how it works. The coach is a fun guy who knows his stuff, and the guys on the team are mostly likeably goofy.
But why did the frickin' team district tournament have to be on Valentine's Day? Mainly because Valentine's Day was on a Wednesday this year, I guess. The one night of the week not already taken by other high school sports (here, it's boys basketball on Tuesdays and Fridays, girls volleyball Mondays and Thursdays).
You can't fight city hall. I resigned myself to my fate. So on Tuesday, the 13th, I ordered some flowers and got some cards. They said they'd deliver on Wednesday morning. Fine. She was gone all day Tuesday with her quilters, but when she got back, I told her not to start supper: We're going out. We got in my car and hit the road. I think maybe she was thinking we'd try another pizza place.
Instead, the car kept going across the county--to a steak restaurant about 30 miles away. That's where we ate, and it was a great steak. Then we went home, and the plan was to watch a movie together and then go upstairs for some serious snuggling. That was the plan, anyway.
She selected "Jules and Jim," a French movie from the '60s neither of us had seen before. But it was in French, with English subtitles. She usually doesn't like movies in a foreign language because of the subtitles, so I read them for her. Except in this case, the subtitles were coming so fast most of the time, I was doing good to keep up with them. She put the comforter over our legs--it was already below zero outside--and got nice and warm.
It was an interesting movie, in my opinion, where Jules and Jim, who are good friends, agree to share a woman--the one who married Jules. It gets a little complex, but it was the early '60s and from France, so it's in black and white, and nothing happens on camera except some kissing and hugging. You see them in bed, smoking cigarettes. Back then, of course, people smoked like chimneys.
So I'm reading the subtitles and trying to keep the plot straight in my mind. About an hour into the movie I notice that her breathing is nice and regular and getting a little louder. I looked over. The eyelids were droopy. I stopped the disc, and she went to get herself some tea. It kept her going for a while, but again, near the end of the movie, the same thing.
Well, when she gets tired, she gets tired. A big supper, a warm comforter, a movie that maybe isn't that exciting for her, and that's what happens. She woke up enough to feed the kitties, and then I took her up to bed, where she could sleep in a horizontal position. As for any post-movie passion--not tonight.
Today, back to work. She was home today, and we had lunch together. I noticed at that time that the flowers, promised for the morning, had not arrived. About 2:30, I had to leave for the wrestling tourney, so I stopped at home to say good-bye. No flowers yet, either. What the ...? I sneaked in one of my cards, at least, and she liked it.
Then, on the road. The usual drive on the usual route to the usual destinations, and by myself, as usual. I stopped off to visit my mom for a while and then went to the tournament. Things went a little longer than expected. I tried to call her between matches, but the line was busy.
I finally got out of there about 8 p.m. and went to Hardee's for supper. While waiting for my chicken sandwich, I tried calling her again. This time it rang and rang, and there was no answer. I left a message, telling her my revised estimate of when I'd be getting home.
It was getting cold. Already below zero, as cold as -8F (-22C), according to the car thermometer. I finally got home about 9:20 p.m. She was watching the news on TV, about the big snowstorm in the northeast U.S. I gave her another card and a red plastic heart-shaped thing of M&Ms I had found. We had a few as we watched the news.
But look ... I was tired. A little cold from the trip home. A little achy. A little sad about the wasted day. I certainly didn't feel like playing around. And she knows how I feel after a long, long day, too.
At least the flowers finally arrived. I glanced at them in the kitchen as I took off my jacket. But ... I was worn out. I can look at them tomorrow. They're carnations, so they'll stick around a while.
One bit of unfinished business from St. Valentine's Day (besides that): I noticed that the phone indicates a message that hasn't been played yet.
Hmm, I wonder who that could be? Maybe we'll find out tomorrow.
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