My husband and I were having a nice time last evening, watching a Diane Keaton movie in which she plays a bitch. Diane was definitely playing against type as the snarky wife of the dispicable Kevin Kline.
I didn't like her character. I also didn't much like her hair.
Suddenly, I realized that I didn't like her character because she was playing me.
Lately, I've been sniping at Scott, saying really nasty things. This is unlike me. I love my husband. I usually treat him gently. But the harsh economic times have done a number on my psyche. It hasn't helped that he quit his crappy job just before Christmas.
I decided to make amends.
"I want to apologize," I said. "I realized watching this movie that I have become a first-class bitch. You don't deserve that. That said, I think I'm mad at you for quitting your job."
Feeling I hit a nerve, I continued, fueled by copious amounts of Merlot.
"I realize that you hated that job. I understand why you quit your job. I'm just mad about it. I don't think you thought it through."
Scott turned to me.
"If I'd stayed in that job one more day, I was going to take my car down to the river and kill myself."
You might think I had no comeback for that. You would be wrong.
"Well, you know, the insurance doesn't pay out for suicides.
Besides, I would be really pissed that you left me without a car."
With that, we continued to watch the movie.