I really wanted to write a monster April Fool's Day post; something completely outrageous but just close enough to reality to make you wonder.
I thought about posting something dramatic and unexpected about Mr. B and me, or that I've quit my job to run off and become an artisan baker.
But I just can't get there from here, at least not today. The funny just ain't happenin'.
I can't shake the sense that I'm reaching another one of those dreaded emotional breakthrough points. I thought I was just about done cleaning myself up after All Hell Broke Loose.
It's probably because I haven't had much experience with certain aspects of interpersonal relationships over the past 25 years. Nor have I spent any measurable amount of time being emotionally independent. I'm guessing I still have some maturing to do.
We hates nasssty maturing! It burnsss!
We hates change in general. We fear change*.
Plus, it is really embarrassing to continually reveal to Mr. B that I am not as mature, confident, and together as I'd like to appear. I feel like I'm pulling him backwards through a maze by his ankles. That doesn't sound like much fun at all now, does it?
Sometimes I wish I could crawl into the Women's Hut until it's all over.
* Gee, ya think?!? Maybe the 30-year relationship was a clue?