I don’t expect a lot. And I don’t ask for much. At least, I didn’t think it was asking a lot of my husband when I told him my plans for this evening. I told him earlier this week that I have to be at the Yak tonight, and that I was going to the Tim O’Brien reading after. He seemed excited about O’Brien. He seemed like he was going to enjoy coming with me. That is, of course, until he found out that the Packers are playing at four, and the game is actually being broadcast out here. Although I’m not surprised he doesn’t want to go with me, I am disappointed.
It seems like I occasionally do things that I don’t want to do just because he wants to. Like going to Eastern Market that day, going to a bar to hang out with his friends, seeing a movie that I could care less about seeing, etc. Not big things, but things that I do because I love him and I want to spend time with him, doing something he enjoys. I don’t remember the last time we went to a reading together. Or a party with my school friends. I usually do these things on my own.
What is eating away at me is that I’m pretty sure that he would have tried to get out of going to the readings with me tonight even if the Packer game wasn’t on television. So, it’s either make him feel guilty enough that he relents and goes with me, being miserable himself and making me more miserable, or I just go alone like a big girl, miserable enough on my own. A real win-win situation over here. I feel like crying. But no, I have to go MC a reading, be cheerful and sociable. And it’s probably only feeling this bad because of the fucking PMS.