Ah, it was bound to happen, sooner or later. This week marked the first time the Remix and I have had the misfortune to match similarly short tempers on the same day. Whoops. No fighting, not really. More disagreement, some harsher-than-necessary words back and forth, and then over, cuddling on the couch, nothing too wrong to fix with a hug.
Stupid stuff, really. I talk about work too much. True, true, but it's not my fault. No, wait, I mean it's the most important thing, other than you, in my life. Ahhhh, not that either...how about it's just on my mind, and why can't you just be interested anyway?
OK. I talk about work too much. I know it. I'm sorry. Defensive systems shutting down...ten minutes too late. Every goddamn time. One of these days, I'll grow up, and instead of firing back at every barely perceived slight, I'll just sit back, relax, and separate the direct hits from the collateral damage before responding. One of these days.
9.13.2006
I just wanna bang on my drum all day
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