Dark Light

There have been a lot of layoffs at GM lately. S told me her husband's hours had been cut back and asked about Keith. I said not yet, he seemed OK so far. Then he came home to tell me that his hours had been cut back from ten a day to 8 a day. This may seem like a more reasonable work load, but Keith is upset because we get about $400 less per week and we are supporting two households, since my house is sitting empty and not sold.

And all those bills.

He used to work from 6 Am to 4:30 and get home around 5. He now works 6 AM to 2:30 and gets home around 3.

Yesterday, when he got home, I thought we were going to pick up Graham's bike at his Grandmother's, ML's. We had talked about it the day before, and I thought Keith had said that's what we were doing. I pictured calling ML and going if she was home. I even thought she might invite us to dinner. (I was having a fit of laziness brought on by fibro pain which is exacerbated by cooking.)

When Keith came home, he wanted to shopping and when I said I thought we should get Graham's bike, he got angry, and rather than discussing it with me, he stormed out the door. I went with him, which was a mistake. He was so mad that when some old person was terribly show in front of us, he started cursing horribly and swearing in a terrible voice. I got out of the car and told him I was walking home. It took me twenty three minutes to walk home.

It was brilliantly sunny and hot, but not as humid and not unbearable. I was unhappy--the sun gave off a dark light.

When Keith returned, he was in a better mood, thank God. But he said that someone had wrecked Graham's bike, and Graham wouldn't be able to ride it, so the point of the trip became moot. I had the paranoid thought that Keith in his anger had arranged this to prove Graham and I wrong for forcing him (which I never intended to do) against his will to drive over and get the bike. But I don't think he's that mean. Just a little temperamental, occasionally. I wish instead of flying off the handle, he'd talk to me and express his hopes, concerns and plans.

I was anxious for him to get the bike because I'd been listening all day to Graham complaining about not having it. But willing to negotiate. It so often seems that what I am picturing happening which is a pleasant family outing, for example, turns into something so different without my understanding how it happened. My vision of the proceedings is very different, apparently, than his. But he does not express his so I cannot attempt to alter it of offer mine as a counter point. There can be no negotiation if no one places their cards on the table.
Only misunderstanding and disaster.