Serenity Now!

St. Patricks Day and Birthday Festivities for Tracy Massillon's, doula extraordinaire aka proficient in the masterful ways of the vagina, birthday ensued from a barbecue to drinking at Brunos. By the time, we hit Brunos the entire posse was in a mood. I, on the other hand, was sober. The DJ was bumping, but so was the headache that progressed in my head. I moved and grooved until I couldn't take it anymore. I decided to head home before I turn into a pumpkin. Shane was free to stay under uno important condition and that is to be at the top of his game at 1000 hours tomorrow. I may be full of girlish foolish promises, but I trusted Shane to do his woman right.

Shellie's Proverb: Never trust a drunk to keep a promise.

As the gods would have it, Shane rolled in the realms of 3 o'clock in the morning. The raucous of his presence was apparent from the door slam downstairs. I was slightly perturbed not because he was drunk, but because he would be mush tomorrow. A tragedy. He sluggishly flopped into bed gurgling boisterously in gibberish and wreaking of alcohol. I was not a happy wife. I was hijacked from sleep, because my husband was being an absolute snoring slob in bed. At sunrise, I watched him bobbing in the depths of his R.E.M. Brewing in frustrating and irrational thoughts. I was not going to allow him to ruin my Sunday. I bounced out of bed. I ate my breakfast and headed to the gym. If and when, I return and he is unresponsive, than I shall take the world into my hands. Until than, the elliptical, heart rate, sweat, free weights, and exertion was immediate.

There's something about exercising that pushes me through the threshold of any conflict. A baptismal. A cleansing. A reflection. I drove home after an hour and half of working out with a different outlook. A brighter one. If Shane was just mentally bruised, than I would pursue today's errands a la solo. Done. No arguments. No lectures. I walked into the house and my husband greeted me with a cheerful, "Good morning honey! Where'd you go? To the gym?" I followed the voice to the bedroom. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk last night." He confessed. I shed a tear as that was all that I was looking for a simple apology without the tooth pulling. How can I be livid with someone so sweet? He further proceeded, "I will do whatever you want today. Baby will have a nursery!" As a part of me would've made him lick the bottom of my cross trainers, my heart oozed forgiveness.

Lesson: A wise grasshopper must not allow emotions to restrict free thought.