Thursday, 18 April 2013

A bitter half-decade and a private island with wi-fi.

I had all sorts of plans to post yesterday but then Ben did that thing where he walks in and says How would you like to...

And then I'm given fifteen minutes to pack, organize who's in charge of the children (Caleb, Loch or PJ depending on who has the most work so PJ hahaha) and have to round everyone up, hug them all and then I'm boarding a teeny-tiny plane and pretending I'm famous.

Which makes Ben laugh and laugh but really the only coping mechanism one has in these situations is all-out ham. Also squee! Because blue water!! Sunshine!!

Besides, he doesn't get it, he's not a mere mortal like the rest of us. Trips for him are shoving 5 black t-shirts into a bag and having someone wait on his every whim for months on end. Plan ahead? This guy? Never!

I'm not complaining. I'm in a place where I can exist in a string bikini.

(And sunblock 100 1000. We sparkle!)

But at this rate the best coping mechanism will soon be Xanax because it was a rough flight and a long day so instead of posting last night I got smashed at dinner and went lights out.

Because I CAN.


And...maybe I'm still drunk this morning come to think of it. I don't even know what time it is. I don't care. We're having a little getaway, just me and Ben. This trip is to mark five years married to the biggest doofus on the planet (his words. For me.)

Five years!


I'm guessing later there will be a medal-presentation ceremony. He glared at me and told me they'll be giving him his medal first, because they are handed out in order of suffering.

Or dickishness, I said.

He laughed and told me that's what this trip is. A chance to make up for things because things have not been great and we are horrible and difficult and completely brutally honest with each other in a way that somehow makes the glue hold when the seams stretch. As far apart as we can get we're alike in ways that really freak me out and make me glad for him because in spite of his ridiculous view of life, he's good for me. Grounding. Safe. Sobering.

Okay well sometimes he's sobering but NOT RIGHT NOW because champagne! I have it.

(And he's been on the phone for half an hour. Working, with apologies. So yeah, I'll finish his champagne too because I told the staff we were dry and still they brought it 'in case we changed our minds'. Good plan! I'll deal with them when I finish this glass. Maybe.)