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.
