What happened with the kitchen?
I don’t know how to explain what has happened with the kitchen… The closest I can manage is that once Elvis got sick, I started having anxiety. And it just leaked out onto everything… and if the everything was not important (or fancy) I stopped caring about it.
I’m sure you understand that! But it becomes less explainable when you consider that Elvis has been gone for a while now, and I have not gotten my care back.
I do not mean that I have some deep apathy towards life; it’s more like, life is GOOD just.as.it.is.
I am happy exactly where I am: the pajama-pants-version-of-existence.
The idea of firebombing my own inner peace— over something I do not care about, (especially a project of the kitchen’s mess and magnitude) makes me want to lie down in the street and hope that someone runs me over.
I just want to hang out with Paul, and the munchkins of destruction; grow flowers, read, go dancing, wear fun costumes, and occasionally get something giant on Craigslist.
I’m done with anything else life needs from me.
Paul has done a wonderful job of being patient… telling me stories about Elvis, tolerating my endless distractions, flights of fancy, and three-in-the-morning-whims-of-iron.
Occasionally absenting himself, so that RagePaul can visit.
(RagePaul is AngryStainGuy’s angrier brother)
RagePaul feels that life is intolerable because we have not moved forward with the kitchen… and RagePaul’s perspective has clouded mine.
Is this intolerable?
Or?
Is this irrelevant?
When RagePaul is 93, will he still be mad about the kitchen?
(That’s a rhetorical question. He will definitely still be mad.)
But when I am 93? ALLOW ME TO ASSURE YOU: the very last thing that I will spend ANY time thinking about will be this kitchen.
Plus, there is another problem that is happening: when Paul tries to talk to me about the kitchen, my brain slams shut.
I feel like I am being suffocated.
Seeing as how my preferred form of communication is hyperbolic overstatement, you may not realize that I am describing my actual experience without embellishment:
MY BRAIN SHUTS DOWN.
I freeze.
I cannot even hear the words that Paul is saying.
Instead, I hear that clanking-movie-noise when the gate is closing, the spillway is overflowing, the building is on fire, and the door on the alien spaceship is sliding shut.
But instead of sprinting to the exit accompanied by exciting music and explosions, I’m like— WHATEVER. The aliens are totally fine. I’m just going to stay here.
This is deeply unfair to Paul.
And yet, sometimes life is unfair.
If this is the first he is learning about this, I cannot help him.
Compounding my alien-brain-paralysis, is that I am married to someone who is SO DIFFERENT from me, that he cannot relate AT ALL.
In a lot of ways, I think it’s mostly good to marry your opposite… (AS LONG AS YOU ARE THE CRAZY ONE)… But it has turned out that Paul is not simply my opposite; but rather a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SPECIES; and at this point, I have no idea which of us is entitled to be the way we are.
I mean, it seems reasonable that we are BOTH entitled to our species’ traits; but Paul seems to disagree… and because none of this is legitimate to him, it feels not legitimate to ME… like my own Self should not exist in this way because it is wrong.
And yet!
Like it or not!
HERE I AM!
EXISTING IN THIS SUPER ANNOYING WAY!
Unfortunately for Paul, (the title of my memoirs!) other people’s expectations have never been a determining factor in my personality, and the chances of me reversing course NOW seem REALLY SLIM.
After all, an aardvark does not become a zebra!
It’s a fact.
LEARN ABOUT SCIENCE, PAUL!
At this point, I am unsure if who I am at the core of my being is an acceptable lifeform… or if who I am is an intolerable mess that should be left on the side of the road with a sign that reads: caveat emptor.
Probably the latter… in which case, I won’t begrudge Paul swapping me out for a zebra and enjoying the rest of his days, grazing the plains in peace; enjoying the serenity of an appropriate species-match… luxuriating in the clarity of black and white and never thinking at all of the muddled grey aardvark he booted from the vehicle.
BUT there is a caveat: if he is planning to abandon me freeway-side, he’d best get on it; because I am fast approaching what (I suspect) is a hard and unforgiving wall of sell-by-date, (an event that may have already passed, but I’m fine living here in denial.)
Either way, once I reach it, THERE WILL BE NO REFUNDS and Paul will be stuck with me forever.
I have informed him of this, and offered to make him a countdown clock so he knows how much decision-making time he has left.
It’s a trick though because HONEY, I’M NOT LEAVING.
The offer is just to lull him into thinking he has choices… the illusion of choice is surprisingly satisfying!
Sort of how I think that if Paul leaves me, there will be a silver lining: revisiting the guy not taken… the one who was so interested in sifting through the depths of my life-ineptitude with curiosity and empathy!
WHAT would THAT be like?
To be accepted EXACTLY AS I AM.
I cannot even imagine such a miraculous thing!
And it’s irritating that I cannot even enjoy my nice imaginary-alternate-universe without realizing that sans-Paul, my soul disintegrates into a million useless pieces (and probably goes to jail.)
Thinking about all of the paths not taken does not make me sad or nostalgic… instead it forces me to realize exactly HOW INSANELY LUCKY I AM and that I should definilty TRY NOT TO RUIN the only smart life-choice I ever made: a man who facilitates the growing of kale.
A man who fixed Elvis with duct tape.
A man who tells me that EVEN IN DEATH, I will be overly particular… and that when I get to the River Styx, I will be all— I do not like this boat… do you have another one?
So now I am basically STUCK HERE, because what with his moving of heavyoldthings and fixing of brokenoldthings and also buildingofkittenhammocks, and channelingElvis’smesagesfromthegreatbeyond… Paul has ruined me for ALL OTHER OPTIONS and rather than pinballing through the world, I am forced to STAY HERE AND THINK ABOUT MY FLAWS.
Thanks a lot, Paul.
August 30, 2017 @ 3:22 pm
I will take the Thad Hayes kitchen, please. Nothing worse than being stuck. Make crazy bold choices, I say. Stay with white appliances and start cooking again. My husband would have chucked me out by now! LOL. (No probably, really) Thank Paul for staying around and for his infinite patience. Get the foster kitties to pitch in on choosing the color swatches.
August 30, 2017 @ 3:33 pm
Please find someone (a professional, not of the interior design variety) to speak with about your muddled brain and sadness. You are grieving, which often provides an unexpected re-setting of expectations and life goals. You will never “get over it” but you will learn to live again and find enjoyment in life, and not necessarily with those things that gave you joy before. This re-setting is what gives us life experience, so that we can someday dispense advice to others. And life goes on.
August 30, 2017 @ 3:36 pm
Let Paul make the rest of the kitchen choices and GIT R DONE. It is not easy to find a spouse that indulges our foibles as gracefully and frequently as Paul has, so sometimes marriages are made of compromises. In all seriousness, I have seen far too many end for far less. Totally understand the kitty malaise. Lost both parents and 3 dogs in the last 5 years. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be excited about anything.
August 30, 2017 @ 3:36 pm
Would it be crazy to let Paul finish the kitchen all on his own?
Probably, yes, I guess that would be insane.
BUT perhaps the sight or thought of what he might do would help you find the will to kitchen again? (Stainless steel appliances! Linoleum! FORMICA COUNTER TOPS!)
August 30, 2017 @ 4:19 pm
Honey, this is what depression feels like. You’ve taken a hard hit, and your psyche doesn’t know how to right itself. Talk to your doctor about how you’re feeling. If doc recommends meds, try them. If you’re anything like me and just need that boost to get you out of the pit life threw you into, chances are you’ll be off them within 6 months. Even if you don’t care about feeling better, go. When you do feel better, you’ll be glad you went. So will your dear Paul. Good luck, sweetie.
August 30, 2017 @ 4:22 pm
I was wondering what HAPPENED to you?! I have not had a blog from you in a LONG time! So we are back to the kitchen, are we? Still keeping the piano, I take it? …good luck, Paul, in the outcome.
August 30, 2017 @ 4:25 pm
Good Grief. This was the best kitchen, not-about-a-kitchen post ever. In.the.history.of.ever.
August 30, 2017 @ 4:35 pm
Victoria–this is my favorite post you have ever written!!!! I will be watching for the release of “Unfortunately For Paul”– I will look to pre-order your book. My husband and I have recently taken personality tests at this site:
https://www.16personalities.com/free-personality-test
So much of what you write on your blog resonates with me and my husband; we seem to be a similar match as you and yours. Recently, upon comparing our personalities, it has become obvious that we, too, are different species.
If I make it to the River before you, I will have already procured a Giant Fancy Boat for kindred spirits and I will wait for you, please do the same for me!
August 30, 2017 @ 4:38 pm
I was doing just FINE until the end, with the picture of the present from Elvis. Now I can barely see to type. The first year after Gwen, our greyhound died, I couldn’t even say her name. Then facebook, in that ever-so-creepy way they have, sent me “On this day last year..” and I lost it for a full day.
The second year was worse. How could it be that bad? I mean, it’s been a YEAR for gods sake. I went to a pet grief support group. They got it. I plodded along. The third year I could say her name without crying but you can see, now 5 years later, someone else’s grief bring it all back up.
And that’s how grief works. It just Is. I can’t walk around it, I don’t pretend it isn’t there. It affects the decisions I make about my current slew of animals (screw cancer and the credit card, FIX THEM). I rescue all the animals I can and believe me, if my cousin tells me he can get his boat and us to Houston to help I’m out the door before you can finish the sentence that starts with “What….”
I kept the cover of her bed. And her ashes are on a shelf in the living room. I make no apologies. And it took me a year to finish my kitchen once the major work was done because I couldn’t figure out where to put the damn knobs.
Hugs.
August 30, 2017 @ 6:49 pm
Okay sweet girl… Here is the answer to your dilemma ( and yes, I know I am pointing out some other options, but they are in the order of preference)!
A: Black. Black is timeless. It will never go out of syle, because it is never totally in style ( as in toooo trendy). It is period appropriate, in the sense that a lot of old Victorians would have a cast iron wood burning cooker, and with your infinite ability to do research on a subject you already know what colour they would have been. Another point for black is that it will just compliment your beautiful island and the window frame I would die for (okay, maybe I would make the hubby die for)! So that is the numero uno that I would choose, if given the opportunity. Or……
B: Do whadevah! Be funky. Be adventurous! Have a little fun! Spin the colour roulette wheel. If your little you says yes, then do it! Or….
C: Let Paul decide. Just kidding! Just kidding! Just kidding! Or…
D: It sounds like you are drawn to the blue. Then go for it! My only thought is what if you don’t like the blue down the road. Are you going to feel guilty for choosing it, since it isn’t a cheap replacement item?
I don’t know if I have helped or hindered your decision, or if you are turning up the volume with one finger, but this comes with the best of intentions for you.
WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE WILL BE AMAZING!!!!!
Thank you for letting us strangers put in our two cents. I’m sure it will turn out to be wonderful. You have absolutely impeccable taste, and are respectful to the process of making your home , YOUR HOME!!
August 30, 2017 @ 7:24 pm
Oh, oh, oh! I just thought of another reason for black that I didn’t mention, but was in the old noggin, but got lost cuz I was writing. Black goes with every other colour! If you want a purple kitchen down the road -perfect! Red? Ringadingy! Blue? Bluebacious (yes, a new word)! You can accent with any other colour and still be pleased with your black decision.
August 30, 2017 @ 6:56 pm
The title of the story of our (terribly successful 27-years-so-far) marriage would be – “You mean now?”
August 30, 2017 @ 7:12 pm
I have felt the same way at times, and understand your pain. I’m sorry for your loss.
We’ve recently moved, and I’m going through the motions of opening boxes, taking things out one-at-a-time, wondering why I even packed up (much less kept) said item, and finding a place for each thing. Did I mention that we’ve seriously down-sized from our previous abode? Our new home looks like a war zone. I promised myself that I would tackle a box every day, a project every week, cleaning all the while. But….we’ve been moved a full month already, and I Just…Don’t….Care. I’m almost to the point of inviting a bunch of people to come over and take whatever they want, then hire a cleaning crew to make the place look livable again. But money issues prevent me from hiring the cleaning crew, so I’d be back at square one, minus all my stuff.
Sigh.
August 30, 2017 @ 7:45 pm
I once felt paralyzed as well. I was in a bad relationship and was trying to take care of everyone. To the point where I couldn`t make a simple decision. I began seeing a therapist. After the first session, I felt the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders.
August 30, 2017 @ 7:52 pm
OMG, it’s like you just described my last two years. Maybe longer. I’m starting to see some light at the end of the tunnel. I FINALLY caved and went to see a therapist. I’m taking some anti-depressants also, but that is merely to keep myself from wanting to die. I think I’m just about over that. SEE A THERAPIST. Sooner than later. For Paul’s sake, if nothing else. I’m taking a big step tomorrow, but I won’t bore you with details.
Try some THC.
August 30, 2017 @ 8:10 pm
I love your blog, and love reading about your adventures in redoing your home.
Look, my Malamute Samson died in May: unexpectedly.. Bloat.. Surgery was performed, but he arrested.. I know how you feel about Elvis..my Sammy was my boy.. the sweetest bundle of fur you can imagine. I know you’re suffering.. It takes time… I see a big fuzzy dog and I cry. I’ve had 3 other dogs and 5 cats which have passed, and I still miss every single one of them.. We don’t have enough time with them..
Men ARE a different species.. I’ve learned that after being married for 30 yrs… And the more I speak with other women about their husbands, the more I realize they have so much in common with another, it’s almost funny. The advantage you have is that you realized it sooner than I did: it’ll save you a lot of aggravation..
As for your stove: I’ve always liked the blue… In a blue and white color scheme, any color you have will go… It’s that versatile. If you choose stained cabinetry, it’ll still go.. It’s almost a neutral
And, my two cents worth: when you constantly concentrate all your effort and time on one thing (in this case your house) you get burned out.. It’s normal!! I’ve been there. Just take a step back, and enjoy other aspects of your life.. You’ll get it back… Believe me..
Take care…
August 30, 2017 @ 8:18 pm
Sticking at it, appreciating what you have in a mate, compromise, never entertaining the “D” word (divorce)…..murder? Maybe! That’s the recipe for a long happy life together! Through the years you do begin to learn that if we are open, we can actually LEARN something about ourselves from our spouses!
Hang in there…..I think you have just been grieving your Elvis….the clouds will part, inspiration will return and you will end up with the most amazing kitchen ever!
August 30, 2017 @ 9:55 pm
I marvel at how open, honest, and darn funny you are! Reading your post reminded me of my favorite Doreen Virtue Angel-a-Day calendar saying:
Know that you are spiritually perfect, even when you don’t feel humanly perfect.
You are grieving, and that takes time. Be kind and loving to yourself as you work through it, and as you heal, you’ll be able to make decisions once again.
Sending Light and Love!
August 30, 2017 @ 10:51 pm
zebra. if you actually want a real, stuffed zebra, i know someone who has one, who, perhaps could be persuaded to sell it to you. seriously. it might be just what the kitchen needs. might look nice with the country living black stove, which is my favorite. harvey reminds us that everything material can disappear in a flash, so don’t get too attached to anything you own.
August 30, 2017 @ 11:00 pm
Beautiful Blue! It symbolizes trust, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, intelligence, faith, truth, and heaven. Blue is considered beneficial to the mind and body. Trust yourself! Hugs!!
August 31, 2017 @ 12:48 am
Ya no kidding. I don’t think Alicia meant anything by her comment, just curious.