When I signed up for the marriage thing, I thought I was going in with my astigmatic eyes wide open. I assumed that Lunchtruck and I would make things work, regardless of what the thing was. Ten years of practice ought to count for something, right?
But this last has been a challenge to my innate super girl powers. Simply put, I ended up volunteering my limited writing/photoshop/photography skills for Team Lunchtruck for this semester's interior design class.
You know that old adage about how you shouldn't work with the ones you love?
Yeah, somehow I forgot about that. Brain, sieve...meh.
So far there's been no blood shed, and only minimal squabbling, so I'm hopeful. Despite the pressure he's under, Lunch has managed to maintain most of his gentlemanly ways, and if I had a cute enough hat I'd doff it to him - I've seen lesser men ruin relationships under much less stress. Tuesday night he pulled an all nighter, then to work, then to class. Did I stress? Um, yeah. I was terrified he'd fall asleep at the wheel. He's NOT allowed to do that again if I can help it.
And perhaps that's the real reason I'm willing to do for him what I'd probably not consider seriously for anyone else. I want my boy happy, healthy and relatively sane by the time this semester is over. If it means I have to give up some time to do his bidding, I may grouse a little (it's my nature) but I will do it.