Blending fiction with reality

I'm listening to a new book on cd today. It's affecting my marriage. Let me explain.

The story weaves the tale of three women in various stages and situations in life who come together through a singular incident. One of the women is undergoing a divorce because her husband fell in love with her cousin. Anywho, this woman, Tess, is experiencing all these emotions as her husband and her cousin explain that they've fallen in love, and as these emotions are described on the cd, I start to feel them in my heart. And as she gets darker and more resentful in her thoughts, I get angrier with my husband.

Seriously. Through the course of the second cd, Josh and I sat side-by-side on our couch while he played games on his phone and I played games on our ipad. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. I turned to him and said, "If you ever cheated on me I'd murder you."

Josh looked up and gave me a hurt, surprised expression. "Murder me?"

I nodded vindictively, my teeth gritted. "I'd stab you."

He lowered his head and resumed his game. "Oh."

It's not fair to him, I realize this. Josh is too comfortable with life and uncomfortable with change to ever cheat on me (and, sure, he loves me too). But the thought of someone breaking a solemn promise to love and honor for time and all eternity really gets my blood boiling. I think I really would stab him.

And this is why I'm better off reading happy things. I get too involved emotionally in the feelings and the thoughts and the action. Sad stories make me sad. Adulterous stories make me mad. I can't separate fiction from reality.

Sunday morning

Josh woke up really sick on Sunday morning. Since it was my turn to teach our primary class (we team-teach), I told him he should probably stay home and would it be all right if I left Scarlet with him so I could focus on my calling. He agreed and I left for church by myself.

Now church is a mere three hours. It was ward conference, so our bishop was one of the speakers and he gave a wonderfully humble, intelligent talk that I enjoyed quite a bit. I love ward conference. I was able to finish writing letters to my two sisters on missions while I sat there quietly, something I hadn’t been able to do since I had a baby. It was the most peaceful, incredible sacrament meeting I have attended in almost a year.

Then I went to Primary and loved whispering to my class and singing the songs and then leading our class into our classroom and teaching without the distraction of a baby babbling and toddling around the room. My kids were just as raucous as usual but I was able to give them my full attention and I never felt overwhelmed or exasperated or frustrated. It was amazing.

Then I walked home, anticipating Josh to be lying miserable on the couch and Scarlet still in her pajamas and possibly fussy. Instead, I walked into the living room to see a clean, vacuumed room with a dressed, happy baby walking around. Josh had done the dishes while I was out as well, and he had showered, shaved, and dressed in my absence. He said he was feeling much better since his shower and instead of sleeping in and trying to take advantage of the morning, he’d spent that same three hours making my world a little brighter and a lot cleaner.

I was utterly amazed. And I have the best husband.

Bad decision

I am an idiot.

I started a book on tape last night after Scarlet went to bed (7:30). I played computer games while I listened and because I was enthralled a few hours later, I stayed up to continue listening after Josh went to bed at 10:30. Then I sort of lost track of time and didn't realize how many cd's I had gone through until my stomach rumbled with hunger at 3 a.m. I ate some crackers and cheese and listened some more, occasionally playing games on the ipad until the battery was completely sapped, and alternating to games on my computer. I could not stop listening to this story, you guys.

It was only at 5:30 a.m. that I was too stiff, cold, and exhausted to concentrate on the story any longer, so I paused the cd and stumbled to bed. Josh woke up briefly to chastise me on my unwise decision (somehow he knew exactly what time it was even though he was half-asleep) before wrapping his blanket-heated arms around me so I could warm up more quickly. I fell asleep and woke up to Scarlet's smiling face next to mine at almost 11 this morning. Josh, the big sweetheart, had gotten up with her at 6:15 and fed her, played with her, and changed her before putting her down for her morning nap. I hadn't heard any of this, I was so deeply asleep. But after Scarlet had woken from her nap, Josh had brought her into my bed and her happy noises were enough to finally stir me from my sleep.

It wasn't so bad at first. I felt moderately refreshed and I was able to get dressed and eat some brunch with Josh. I listened to some more of that book on cd (somehow less enthralling after my rest) and then went to Costco with Josh and Scarlet. It was about halfway through the shopping trip that it hit me. A huge, invisible wall of exhaustion that caused my knees to buckle and my eyes to droop. I stumbled around the store, hanging on to the shopping cart to keep me upright. My limbs were SO HEAVY. We got home, put the food away, put Scarlet down for a nap, and I lay on the couch, listening to the end of the book.

I never recovered. I am apparently far too old to stay awake all night. I remember pulling all-nighters in high school and college all the time. Midnight movies, study sessions, really good books--I wouldn't even think twice about skipping sleep for something more interesting. And yes, I was tired, but I was functional and even a little victorious for having endured an entire night of not-sleeping. But no more. I don't know if it's my age, my regular sleep habits, or my almost-one-year-old that make me so tired, but I made a really bad decision to stay up last night. Even for as worthy a cause as reading a truly fascinating story.*

*If you want to be enthralled in an interesting book, I recommend Me Before You by Jojo Moyes.