Logic - The Retired Life Version

As we are preparing to have friends over for dinner this evening, Joe has been underfoot this morning. Okay, he was trying to help. Okay, he WAS helping. Maybe I should note that I planned my week without any lunches out with friends so I may be out of touch with civilized behavior. Other than a trip to dispose of a broken Walmart cart that ended up in a friend’s front yard – I have been at home all week working on travel plans, cleaning, tool inventories, cooking, and getting my steps in with short walks every hour.

My only outside socialization was picking Elizabeth and Dave up from the airport Monday morning and when Kim Farina came by for dinner earlier this week. Thank goodness I experienced those interactions or I would probably be even more irritable.

All of this to say, I may have been a bit cranky with Joe this morning.

Here is an example:

Me: Really, a small plate? (This is for the pork loin he took out so it could get to room temperature).

Him: It’s encased in plastic so it won’t drip.

Me: It’s logical that the plate should be bigger than the meat.

Him: Different people use different logic. I considered a larger plate but since it won’t drip it doesn’t matter.

Me: No! There is one logic for this  - the plate should be bigger than the meat.

Him: No. That’s your logic, it’s not mine.

Me: You are right. We do have different logic. I have logic. You don’t.

The upshot of this is that he got out a bigger plate and then I felt grumpy because I knew I was being unreasonable.

So that led to a whole other conversation.

Me: I’m sorry, I know I’m being bitchy.

Him: No, you are not being bitchy. You are used to working in an office where everyone does things your way. (Note: This is NOT true. I don’t think so at least). I am used to working alone in the shop and everything is my way. I am collaborative when working with others though.

And he is collaborative! He is so willing to help at anything and everything and we are finding a lovely rhythm to working together. Except for when we don’t because I am acting like a petulant child. Like really, who cares about the size of the plate?

Everything is prepared and ready to be cooked for our meal this evening. I’ve had a shower, a light lunch, a glass of wine (had to open it for the lamb shank recipe) and a lot of water. Good-bye cranky pants.

When Joe poured the wine, I looked at the clock and it was only 11:00am. I looked at him and said, “I wanted a glass an hour ago and thought it was too early.” Joe reminded me that we are retired and 11:00am is the perfect time for a retired person.

I like Joe Coehlo’s logic.