Okay...new Vent of the Week: I just got a raise. No biggie, right? I mean, every January I get a cost of living adjustment, and every couple of years I get what's called a "step increase." (I work for the Feds). This raise, however, is different. It is a "quality step increase." (QSI) It is given for merit. It is given because (when I actually do work) I am a kickazz attorney. And, get this, the last time this office got a QSI was 17 years ago.
It's a big deal.
So yesterday, when I found out, I called W and left a message on her voice mail. She called back, about an hour later with congratulations. I gave her the stats (how much money it meant for us, how long it's been since someone in the office got one). I didn't expect her to get all mushy, and she delivered. In other words, her response was lukewarm. This temperature continued over the course of the evening, when she didn't want to talk about her day, or about much of anything, because she was tired.
At bedtime, I was turning off the light when this exchange occurred. W: I'm sorry I've been so b!tchy tonight. I'm just tired and stressed. H: No problem. I'm in a great mood anyway, and it didn't bother me. W: What do you mean? H: I mean, I wasn't going to let your b!tchiness ruin my great day. W: Well, that's kind of a crappy thing to say.
After which she tried to berate me for saying such an insensitive thing. And perhaps it was insensitive. But my intent was to let her know something that she has always asked me to work on: don't let others be the source of my happiness. I rolled over and went to bed.
Anyone get the irony here? Here's what apparently goes on in her head: I get to be b!tchy. I apologize for it, which, of course, makes it okay. Spouse has the audacity to tell me that my mood didn't ruin his great day. Now, I'm b!tchy again. And on top of that, he refuses to engage in an argument. The nerve of him.
When something great, or even something reasonably interesting, happens to her, we spend a lot of time talking about it. When something great happens to me, a verbal handshake of congrats is enough, and then either leave her alone, or respond to her problems.
I'm just venting here, folks. The only solution to her problem is intensive in-patient therapy, preferably with electroshock thrown in.
And I'd like to go out this weekend, to a restaurant (so that I don't have to cook, which I ended up doing on my birthday this year) and celebrate my pay raise. And dang it, I shouldn't have to be the one to suggest it. But, since it's about ME, I guess I'll have to suck it up and mention to her that, hey, it'd be nice to go out and have a dinner cooked for me in a restaurant so that I can eat it and not have to clean up afterwards.
Yes, I'm in Corri's Center of the Universe Chair...or at least I'd like to be there, but my W is hogging the chair. And as I struggle to sit down, she looks at me, shaking her head and says, "it's always all about you, isn't it?"
Garrrrrrrrr.
/vent
Okay. I feel better now. I expect all of you to come to my Slightly Left of the Center of The Universe Chair and tell me what a good guvment worker I am. You may begin.
Uh huh, that's right We talk about your work, how your boss is a jerk, We talk about your church and your head when it hurts. We talk about the troubles you've been havin' wit your brother 'bout your daddy and your mother and your crazy ex-lover. We talk about your friends and the places that you've been, We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin. The polish on your toes and the run in your hose, and God knows we're gonna talk about your clothes. You know talkin' about you makes me smile, but every once in a while,
I wanna talk about ME, I wanna talk about I Wanna talk about number 1 oh my, me, my, What I think, What I like, What I know, What I want, What I see. I like talkin' about you, you, you, you usually, but occasionally I wanna talk about ME! (me, me, me,) I wanna talk about ME-E-E. (me, me, me)
We talk about your dreams and we talk about your schemes, Your high school team and your moisturizer cream. We talk about your nana up in Muncie, Indiana, We talk about your grandma down in Alabama. We talk about your guys of every shape and size, The ones that you despize and the ones you idolize. We talk about your heart, 'bout your brains and your smarts, And your medical charge and when you start. You know talkin' about you makes me grin, but every now and then,
I wanna talk about me, I wanna talk about I, Wanna talk about number 1 oh my, me, my. What I think, What I like, What I know, What I want, What I see. I like talkin' about you, you, you, you usually, but occasionally I wanna talk about ME! (me, me, me,) I wanna talk about ME-E-E (me, me, me)
(I wanna talk about me) MMMM ME, ME, ME, ME, ME (i wanna talk about me) MMMM ME, ME, ME, ME, ME
You, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, I wanna talk about ME!
I wanna talk about me, I wanna talk about I, Wanna talk about number 1 oh my, me, my. What I think, What I like, What I know, What I want, What I see, Oh I like talkin' about you, you, you, you usually, but occasionally, I wanna talk about ME! (me, me, me) I wanna talk about ME-E-E I wanna talk about ME! (me, me, me) No ME-E-E! (me, me, me)
Well Hairy, Seeing that I'm paying for your raise with my hard earned dollars that could be feeding my kids if the Gov't wasn't picking my pockets let me say:
CONGRATS! You dog you, go HD! Oh, and since Mrs.HD is so lukewarm over the raise, maybe you should earmark the extra money to pay for something that is just for you...like maybe a stunt wife to do what she won't (I can hear her now, "Hairy, sex isn't in the contract").
Dear Big Banana, I congratulate you on your highly overdue verbal and monetary recognition. Bureaucrats are, on average, highly underrated people. They are thought of as boring stuffed shirts. Not you, dear Hairdog! I think I speak for all of us when I say Wtg, man! Great job and I'm sure you are indeed a kickazz attorney, when you do actually work.
You know, I have a sister in law who is VERY uncomfortable doling out WOA to her H. It's weird..she's really proud of him and talks well of him to other people (on occasion) but to give him woa when he's clearly deserved it is almost impossible for her. Nay, it IS impossible for her. Something about "he's expecting it, so I just can't do it". It's weird. But she has told me that she thinks it--just can't bring herself to say it.
I don't know if that's any consolation--that your wife was definitely thinking highly of you yesterday. Oh and my SIL gets pissy when she knows she should be praising but isn't. I wonder if that was at the root of W's general pissiness.
Oh well, WHO CARES! I'm proud of you, I'm hoisting my tea glass in the air to you and saying Salut, Hairy..!
Congrats on the raise. Be them big or small they make a person feel great. And a big Wtg on the breaking of the non raise tradition of your position. That is worth more then the raise I would think.
And my suggestion leave spoilsport at home and with the money you save on her dinner take DD out to eat every meal of the weekend in celebration. Mrs Its not about me so its not important should cook for her self.
And way to go by not letting wife take away your good day. And accomplishments.
Would you believe my late fiancee' is co-writer of that song? It hit the charts just before he passed...I couldn't listen to that for the LONGEST time.
My fiancee and Bobby Braddock wrote that one night in a bar. He called me the night they were writing it and I got to hear the "Premier" version of it sang on a cell phone LOL.
It still makes me smile though...and no, it has nothing to do with me
