Watching TV My Way

It’s actually kind of funny that after 36 years of marriage (plus a few more added on for living together first), I have to re-adjust to being around my significant other.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Indeed it does, but it also makes our shared time a confusing mess.

The last couple of years my other has been working the night shift. Not a big deal for most couples. Not a big deal for us. Except just as get into my girlie routine being by myself, he’s home an extra night and I’m thrown off base.

The first 2/3s of my life I spent every evening with him. Kids, dogs, family. Mowing the lawn. Doing the laundry. Playing video games. Reading books. Like synchronized swimmers, we did a lot of things either in tandem or complimentary to each other.

His work hours  these days are Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and every other Saturday night from 5pm to 5am.  So I do Japanese Movies with English Subtitles on Monday, Horror Movies on Tuesday,  binge watch series and write on Saturday, and watch dramas and tearjerkers and do Art Gallery pictures on Sunday.  I throw in a little pretzel housework between movies or chapters — it’s a little dizzying but it works for me.

You say, why don’t I include him in my pretzel activities?

He thinks I’m nuts already for the Japanese movie part. He thinks B horror movies are a waste of time. Breaking Bad didn’t interest him, nor did Stranger Things, both of which I power watched. I text, write, surf, watch, fetch and wash at my own speed. I eat what I want when I want, not fearing eyes watching me have a bowl of ice cream before bed.

Yet when we do spend the evening together and we’re not working on some “project” we crash on the sofa and…watch TV. I don’t care for the Ultimate Fighter or  the Beverly Hillbillies and I cringe watching anything with commercials, so I usually pull out my laptop for a couple of hours.

I’ve worked 64 years on developing this wonderful, quirky personality. Or rather it’s taken me 64 years to accept this wonderful, quirky personality. Either way, I like things my way. The pretzel way.

I’m sure my hubby doesn’t mind it either, otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed with me for so long. But when the day is done and the two of us are together and we’re not going crazy with grandkids or mowing or other lovely pastimes, I say —

To think I did all that
And may I say – not in a shy way
Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it myyyy wayyyy…….