No Time To Talk

I've got Saturday Night Fever stuck in my head-- "You can tell by the way I use my walk-- I'm a lady's man, no time to talk... Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive. Uh-uh-uh-uh, Stayin' Aliiii-iiiiiiii-iiiiiii-iiiiiive."

It started with the section of book I wrote for tonight's Writing Group, about the Argmy's Agnthrags Vaccine and how awful it was. I was going to call it "Staying Alive..." but then the song flashed in my head. Now it's just THERE. IN MY HEAD.

Interestingly, and nonsequitously, I'm suddenly noticing the things about GB that really impressed me at first, and that he just doesn't do anymore, six weeks into our dating relationship. Like opening the car door for me. Or making sure if I drive home late at night (not just from his house, but from ANYWHERE)-- that I actually made it there safely. Or attributing some of the unexpected good things in his life of late to the fact that I'm in his life now, too. I know that last one wasn't true, but I appreciated the compliment. And I really liked feeling that someone out there cared enough for my safety to check in with me when they knew I might need it. Specifically that the someone I might consider a life partner one day had that level of concern for my well-being. And paid attention to my life enough to know when I was taking long drives alone on the highway, etc.

Also, can I just say that we tried to grocery shop together the other day, and he drove me bonkers in the process. THREE TRIPS down the same aisle because he was having trouble comparing the items on the list to the items in the aisle for more than one item at a time. I know he was tired that day. I know *I* was tired that day, and furthermore that I've done the exact same thing from time to time. But it's the first time he's done anything that really just got on my nerves. I had four hours to spend with him, and 3.5 of those hours went to shopping for paper towels and a skillet. And it REALLY got on my nerves. Besides predicting doom and gloom at every turn, that is. That also gets on my nerves. He's very slowly getting better about that one. I just don't know if I have the patience to wait for him to truly overcome this negative tendency of his.

Those are the not-so-happilies.
Fortunately, he loves my cooking. A lot. He's starting to relax enough around me that I believe I'm starting to see the REAL GB, and not the "make a good first impression" GB. And the real GB still walks into the other room to fart so I don't have to smell it, and sits for long periods in uncomfortable positions rather than move me off his chest, when I fall asleep on him by accident. He pauses in the middle of what he's doing to put a finger under my chin just because he's glad I'm there with him. And he continues to work hard at our communication and at figuring out what we're each thinking about our relationship as it unfolds. He still asks me to explain my unconscious sighs, and really appreciates my input on some of his decisions-- before he makes them. He still takes amazingly good care of his dog, though he's gotten fed up with his lazy-ass roommate's lonely teenage cats, and now chases them away whenever he spends time in the main part of the house.

I know nobody's perfect. And I know I enjoy most of our time together. But I find that my tolerance for other people wasting my time is low, and that my high expectations for any relationship I spend time on are still very much in effect. So I'm teetering between awareness that everybody (including me) has their annoying foibles, and the boy is dealing with a lot of challenges and concerns right now-- and a slow insidious loss of interest in those same challenges and concerns because I've been hearing about them for nearly six weeks now. I can't tell if I'm just grumpy, or if there's something deeper I need to notice.

I also can't tell if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I lost so much time waiting for my ex to get his shit together... and now I'm unfairly unwilling to give anybody a break for having personal challenges to cope with-- or if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I don't believe it's actually going to go away anytime soon. I just don't know.

So I think for now I'll wait and see. And maybe take a headache pill before I go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll finally feel rested when I wake up. I'd like that. And I really REALLY wish I'd had time to stick around and let the GB spoil me with a big home-made breakfast this morning. He planned to do it. But by 9am, he still wasn't out of bed, and I had a day's worth of work to start. So I left. Half an hour after I'd planned to go, once he finished telling me of his morning worry and kissing me goodbye. And I've been damned grumpy about it ever since.