He started with his usual explaining (which in our family means you ask him what time it is and he builds you a clock). I was not prepared and had no idea where this was going. It seems that his looming 50th birthday is giving him the willies and we must get things in order. This is a surprise to me, I feel that everything is in order. Except I have some weird food allergies threatening my primary income is as a food critic, the house is being remodeled by Neanderthals, and we are sharing a bathroom.
Here’s what an hour of not so patiently listening got me all the while deciding “I really do hate three of the artwork pieces in our room”:
We are starting a new bookkeeping business
He really wants to listen to me
He wants me to be healthily
He is afraid for the first time in his life of his mortality.
I agreed, took notes, signed flagged sections, and agreed to everything. I even agreed to type up notes of summation. My only comment, (and there was a lot I wanted to say) was that I was not willing to support another mid life crisis of his, it is clearly my time. I am the one so ensconced in Menopause I can barely get to work. I told him to get a therapist, tell it to them and just shower me with love and sex (and a diamond bangle every now and then. BRD’s scare me.