Morning all, happy August. Young Master Duke is sitting out back, and I am out front under the wee morning stars. I couldn’t take the noise in the house anymore. It is part and parcel of life, and there is nothing we can do to fix it.
My beloved husband has a syndrome where most noise I make drives him fruit bat crap insane. Some would say that it is a short trip. It’s called misophonia.
I on the other hand don’t enjoy the sounds produced by movies and television. I hate the sound of fans. He is watching a movie loud enough that my audiobook can’t drown it out. Rather than scream, I grabbed my bag and headed to the front patio.
Here’s the fun part, we have both Netflix and Amazon Prime. I can’t stand either. Having my teeth removed through my nostrils would be more pleasant. I pay for two services that I can’t use.
Chuckle. It is life. My life. He loves war movies, which drives me bats. He loves Stargate SG whichever, which I miss, but can’t watch. I love true crime podcasts, which scares the bejesus out of the man.
The give and take of our relationship means that we don’t have to like the same thing. We don’t have to do the same things, and we don’t even have to be in the same room.
We are cool with that. We just get along the best we can. I sit here, worried and praying about his next surgery. It’s only 5 weeks away. I’m terrified that he won’t make it through the surgery. He just had an aneurysm taken care of this year.
Yet, I wouldn’t trade one hour of being annoyed at the sound of him watching his shows for a million dollars. He still makes me coffee when he can.
Hugs my friends. Please take care. Yes, he drives me nuts, but then again, I get mine too. -L
AnonymousKnitter 