Whereby I Want to Punch the World in the Face, but Michael Stops Me

I have an air of aggravation. Nothing is wrong, per se. I am more stressed than usual, as I line all my ducks up in a row for my impending Holiday Boutique and somehow they keep waddling out of line. I have some personal conflicts that are annoying, but not overwhelmingly so. I can't seem to keep my house clean...which makes me irritated, not only because the house is not clean, but because I used to laugh at a character in a musical (Jack's Mother, in Into the Woods) for singing a complaint that her house was a mess...because isn't that just her own fault? So, there is nothing particularly wrong...it's just not unicorns prancing about shitting cupcakes and rainbows...which, as a friend pointed out, just means it's life.

But the air of aggravation grows. It grows because I spend more than my fair time on Facebook, on HuffPost, on Google News, on Twitter, and I am reading posts and stories and articles and links and tweets on injustices, injustices perpertrated against a group to which I belong, if only marginally. Injustices which could have had an impact on my life, but for the grace of Bertha, haven't and in all likelihood, won't. I am talking, of course, of the rights of same sex couples to marry, the fight for marriage equality. I was lucky enough to meet the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with when I was only 23. He happened to be a man, but my sexual orientation remained unchanged. If Michael had been a woman, I would have just as easily lived happily ever after with her...but he wasn't, so I luckily got to get married in the eyes of the government. Bi-sexual doesn't have to mean you have to have both...it just means you've got a lot more options to start from, but that's a whole other blog entry.

This morning, I was reading yet another post, this one about the Rhode Island governor deciding to veto a bill allowing same sex couples the right to plan each other's funerals, something married people take for granted. Already aggravated from the world not providing me with Unicorns shitting cupcakes and rainbows, I read bits of the article to my husband, whose back is to me as he works on his computer. Incensed, my voice rises and I become completely shocked by the utter awfulness of the situation. I proclaim: All of these people are going to hell!

And herein lies one of the myriad of reasons Michael is the person for me...without turning from the computer, he says, very calmly and matter of factly, "The noise is always worst before the dyke breaks. They're trying everything now because they're ultimately going to lose." And with that, I am calm. I am no longer vengeful. I might even see a unicorn in my front yard.