Never Go to Bed Angry

I always thought the "never go to bed angry" advice was not for me. Often, I'll get annoyed at silly stuff, go to sleep, and wake up feeling sheepish for getting annoyed at something so silly. So, many times, it is beneficial for me to just never bring it up, to sleep on it, and get over it.

Last night, however, was not one of those nights.

This past month has been kind of crazy - work has been busy, I finished up my fashion degree, and Mr. has spent a lot of time on the road, traveling for residency interviews. When I'm stressed, I drop the details. I just do what needs to be done, and then just veg so I don't burn out. Of course, when I drop the details, Mr., being slightly OCPD, becomes more stressed. And when he becomes stressed, he snarks and nitpicks.

It got to the point where I was looking forward to him being on the road and dreading having to be in the same room with him. (And since we live in a studio, we're always in the same room if we're home.) Finally, last night, after a lovely evening with friends, Mr. made a comment that just irked me to no end; he was essentially bragging about the very character flaw that had been making me miserable the past couple weeks. I had been dozing off after a long day of traveling and really just wanted to sleep. But sensing my bad mood, Mr. coaxed the issue out of me, and we had a long talk about what wasn't working and how to move forward.

We now are keeping each other in check. I don't like my opinion to be discounted or ignored, but I recognize that I often commit one of Mr.'s pet peeves: I'll talk about topics I only know a little about. I know a little bit about a lot of topics; as Mr. put it, I know "just enough to be dangerous". What can I say? I like small talk. But I know Mr. is right in that it's dangerous for people who don't really know what they're talking about to act like they do. So, for him to help me correct that behavior without making me feel like a know-nothing idiot, he's going to use the code phrase, "we'll have to read more about it".

Similarly, I can't take the nit-picking. Any comment alone seems silly to complain about, but when that's all I'm hearing from my husband, it feels like rocks building up in my chest. It just drags me down and makes me not want to be around him. Naturally, Mr. doesn't want to hurt me or be a drag, so when he starts to do that, I'm now going to respond by saying "don't be a grump".

We didn't go to bed angry but rather with a renewed sense of marital bliss. We had our airing of grievances (it's a Festivus miracle!), and came up with productive actions to take in the future if necessary.

I guess sometimes it is best to not go to bed angry.


Meanwhile... 81 days until Match Day!

Susan Boyle & The Match

Like many Americans & Brits, I have watched - and been moved by - Susan Boyle's performance on Britain's Got Talent. The song she sang, "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Misérables, has been in my repertoire since I was 15 and saw that episode of Dawson's Creek where Katie Holmes' character sings it in a beauty pageant.
While not the most challenging song ever written, it does provide a number of challenges. The range required spans the break many female singers have between their chest and head voice, so you have to use your mix voice for the higher notes so as to not sound like two different people. While trained singers tend to bridge their break rather seamlessly, I've found it an issue for amateurs and pop stars alike (Shakira is the worst about it!).
Also, a lower-tempo song, the phrases are sometimes on the longer side, requiring good breath support. Personally, I always tend to have breath support issues which are only made worse when I'm nervous. Now, I've been singing in public my whole life. I don't really get nervous performing. I don't really care if audience members don't love me; I just enjoy being up there. However, I'm a ball of nerves whenever I audition because if the casting directors don't like what I do enough, I don't get the opportunity to do something I want. Ironically, this tends to hurt my audition. The nerves make breathing even more difficult, making my voice crack and my phrases trail off far too early. I hate auditions, but they're necessary in order for me to do what I love.

Similarly, Mr. is having a rough time with anxiety over this upcoming year. Is he choosing the right day for Step 2 CK? Will he stand out at his away rotations? Will he get enough interviews? And finally, will he match? After reassuring him that he will match but if by some fluke he doesn't it still won't be the end of the world, I gently reminded him that a career in orthopedic surgery doesn't stop being stressful.
He replied, "I know, but then I'll be doing what I want to be doing. I'll be learning about and then practicing surgery."
And that's when I realized that, like me, Mr. gets nervous for auditions despite his confidence when he performs.

Part of what I found so inspiring about Susan Boyle was her ability to perform despite her obvious nerves. I listened carefully at the bridge, waiting for her to crack or take an obvious breath in the middle of a phrase, and yet she powered through. Though Mr. is nervous about all that is ahead of him, I'm confident it won't show during his extended audition for residency. Still, the countdown for the match has begun. 10 months, 3 weeks, 5 days.

Remembering Boredom

I am stressed. out.

I just took a midterm tonight, finished the first part of a group project over the weekend, and have 3 more projects in my lap. I have class 3 nights a week, an online class, church obligations, and sorority paperwork.

A year ago, I came home every night unless I had social plans. I'd get to make dinner and watch TV. I was really bored and felt directionless.

While I'm glad to be learning new skills and to have some direction, it's hard to remember what was so bad about not having stuff I had to do at night.

I wish my pride could handle being a law firm support staffer in the long term. I could work 35 hour weeks, have great pay and benefits, and spend my paycheck on travel and designer shoes. Sadly, I do want a career of some sort. Le sigh.

At least as a student I get spring break - 8 days until take-off!

Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde?

A few months ago, Mr. spearheaded this project doing something for a surgeon with a couple of his classmates. I don't know much about the project except that it meant even more time spent in the anatomy lab and that Mr. was the lead med student on it.
Well, somehow between helping first years with anatomy, sitting on the board for the student-run free clinic, finishing 2nd year, studying for the boards, and dealing with a long commute and even longer hours, he dropped the ball and hadn't yet gotten around to contacting the surgeon about writing up an abstract. It had been on his mental to-do list for some time, but sometimes people just beat you to the punch.
Luckily, the guy who beat him to the punch this time was a nice guy who gave him a heads up before doing so. Via text message, Mr. originally said it was fine that the other guy write the abstract. But the thing is, it wasn't fine. This was his project. He and I talked it out, and I advised him to just be honest with his classmate about how he was really hoping to be first author, etc. From what I could tell only hearing one half of the conversation, I think his classmate was understanding. Crisis averted.

Mr. spent the rest of the night editing another abstract written by a PhD whose first language is not English. I'm pretty good with grammar (not always apparent on here), so I tried my hand at it. Unfortunately, I don't spend my days reading science experiments, so I wasn't sure if I should be fixing all of those sentences written in passive voice or if I should just leave them. I think I'll stick to proofing legal documents.

Mr. (Dr. Jekyll) didn't mind, though, and took back over the editing.


This morning, Mr. (aka Mr. Hyde) and I got into a playful argument that started about McCain's VP Choice, then moved on to Bloomberg and peoples' desire for him to be president, to McCain's senility, and then I looked at my watch to see where I should be in my morning routine. It was 7:25, and since Mr. typically leaves at 7:15, I said 'don't you have to leave?' To which he replied 'yes' and went on his way.

5 minutes later I get a text message from Mr.:
"don't you have to leave?". Glad to know I'm wanted in the house.

Sarcasm or anger? Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde? I suspect it was the latter, but as my first instinct was sarcasm, I went with it:
lol. I love you, baby. Just didn't want you to be late as it seems you normally leave around 7:15/7:20.

Above comic by Michelle Au. Ever since STM linked the underwear drawer to our site, I've been reading the archives from 2004 to now. I think Mr. is either a Gunner, a One-Track Mind, or Painfully Enthusiastic. This morning I picture him as a gunner. Thus, the unnecessary frustration.