"Is it bigger than a bread basket?"
And just how big is that? I'm gonna say yes, but your bread baskets in the rear view mirror are larger than they appear.
Over
the past two and a half weeks the Pirate Queen and I crammed as many
obstacles in our way as we could. We packed. We drove. We met the
parents. Now we're playing "find an apartment."
Whee!
I swear this is like playing that game "Trouble" as
a kid, except people keep adding more pieces to get into the home base.
Oh that, and there's no "pop-o-matic" without a prescription.
That's
the thing about life: no pop-o-matic. No, wait it's something else, but
that does bring up a good point: Why isn't there a pop-o-matic. I
mean, see that guy in the cubicle next to you? Wouldn't you just love
for a great big hand to drop from the sky and…POP! "Go to lunch." There's
not though, and I guess that brings me to my other keen eye revelation
about life. There's always some stressor that tests your metal. Whether
it's as an individual, as a couple, or both, it's there. Not part of a
couple? No big deal, you can play the solitaire version of the stressor
game.
Me, I'm playing the team version. My team drove cross country in a car full of stuff, none of it mine. One lap around the US map board from one end of the map to the other. Rolling Motel 6's and sleeping in strange spaces.
"Lost kitty, go back three spaces."
When
we reached California. The final square. I was exhausted. What's more,
now that I'm here, I have to shift from the travel game to the home
game. It took me two days to catch up on the
stuff I'd neglected since I left. Now I'm still expected to keep pace
with the Pirate plan of skipping to a new home. I need a vacation from
my vacation!
Do
I sound like a whiner? That's cuz I am. I've always been unlucky when
it comes to games. If it can go wrong it does, and that puts me on
edge. I'm getting cranky and I want my nap! Why can't I ever hit the
"Free Parking" space?
This
is what's most difficult for me though. MyEx left and I'd finally made
the transition into "single" Rob mode. Now, the Pirate Queen has jumped
me and she has her piece in my back row.
"King me."
I
don't know if I have the energy. I'm shifting back to "Couple" mode.
Team games are hard. Especially when you're playing with a time limit.
The Queen wants to be in a new apartment before she starts her new job
and that's in three days. It's not impossible, but it's like playing Pictionary with a monkey.
"We might get more right if you didn't stand on my back and draw with your butt. Please use the pen."
Yes, now I'm gonna get tons of hate mail from monkey lovin' Pictionary fans. Don't hate me, I've got a monkey on my back too.
There's
another aspect to the games PQ and I play: we aren't playing against
anybody else. We're playing against ourselves. Relationships fail. Only
the fastest, the strongest, and the luckiest survive. Who does the
dishes and who handles the laundry doesn't matter to anybody else, but
to us, it can be the difference between winning and losing. We can
either make it a mountain, or we can get it done.
That's
what we're discovering now. We're rolling the dice and seeing how we
play together. It's not the game itself that matters, it's who throws
the board against the wall first, then storms home.
So
far The Queen and I are still playing together. I think that says
something bigger than a bread basket. Some turns are better than
others, but as long as we remain a team, I think we can win.