Our first couple of days back together were very pleasant. Not ecstatic. But pleasant. Not in a Pleasantville way. More in a "it makes sense that we're together" way.Things started downhill when I became overly ambitious for our itinerary over the long weekend. But to my credit, I slashed and burned massive chunks of activities/scenic routes/must-sees when it became apparent that they just didn't make sense, for reasons of timing, children, or other. Things really when downhill when I emerged from a grocery store with dry ice for the cooler and Sun Chips.
Continental divide.
Pic
Then the night after we got home, on the heels of our learning that:
a) The house in Kaysville she'd really wanted had sold (have I mentioned this one, the half-million dollar pad?); and,
b) My colleague had been given a position that might, with a stretch of the imagination, have been given to me (it would have been a lateral move organizationally but to a spot of greater concentration of corporate power),
She told me --and this is a dramatic distillation of the conversation-- in a nutshell that:
a) I needed to make more money (she'd started off saying she was worried that I wasn't "ambitious" enough, but I eventually got her to cough up that what she was euphemizing was her desire that I "make more money"), so that
b) We could buy a house she really wants without buy be more ambitious professionally
I'm still astonished by the conversation. I'm not angry at her. I'm just...maybe nonplussed, everybody's favorite ACT word? Nonplussed, because my YTD income for the first half of this year would be enough to put us into the top 30% of all U.S. households...even if I didn't make another dime for the rest of the year. So I'll let you extrapolate from that where I'd be
Hate feeling this way, love card tonight about kids
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