I have a headache

And we still have a hole without a toilet. (But we do have tile!) You know, there has to be some really cool philosophical thing in that... a hole without a toilet...

AND there's a big fat elephant in the room that no one will talk about.

Went to church tonight, was annoyed with That Man. He knew it, I knew it, and would he say anything? No. Which made me madder. I mean, is it so hard to say, "what's bothering you?" OR "I'm sorry I upset you." OR "Do you want to talk about it?" OR (which I have told him a number of times is the very BEST answer) "What can I do to make it better?" Instead, he just walked around with his goofy grin like nothing was wrong.

What was tonight's message? The very profound notion of sacrifice and putting others before yourself. I pretty much bawled through the whole thing. And, because my emotional state is always the big elephant in the room, That Man said nothing. I was too upset to stay home when we got home, so I headed to sonic, grabbed a junior banana split, and then headed to the mountains to contemplate.

At issue is this: That whole dying to self thing. I get it. And I feel that on so many levels, I've done that. Most of the time, in my little universe, there is no room for me. Is it wrong of me to want some of that? That my husband would share my heart and desire to serve the other spouse? Not just in the sense of doing what it takes to avoid getting in trouble, which he already has down to a science, but in the deeper way of saying, "I know I want and need this, but because I love and care about you, I'm giving it up." Not that I want him to give up anything specific, just in the general sense that he'd put some of my needs, actual needs, not what he thinks I should have, ahead of his own. BUT, and here is where I'm wrestling... because I want that, does that make me more selfish than I'm admitting to?

Okay, my head still hurts. Thinking is a bad thing, especially when I use up an entire box of tissues to do it. And That Man is off cowering in a corner somewhere. God forbid he actually gets up the nerve to talk about the elephant. Well, here it is. Eventually, elephants make enough big stinky poop that you have to deal with it. Maybe that's why he wants to move-he thinks he'll escape all the elephant poop.

On a lighter note, and probably should be a separate post, except I'm lazy, tired, and have too much of a headache to do much more than type, my dear friend Rae has her first book out today. Go, check it out, you won't be disappointed. I've known her since I started writing, so it's a real thrill (even if it's tinged with a pang or two of envy) for me to see her have this day.

Peace be the journey-just pack lots of tissues.