A dream come true, and a possibility
This Sunday was Mediocre Institution’s commencement ceremony. I participated in the festivities for two reasons. Firstly, to enact a fantasy BFB and I concocted almost ten years ago, when I was in college and she was in grad school. In this fantasy, we were faculty at the same institution. We would attend commencement together, sit in the back, and (because these ceremonies are quite boring) drink from flasks we’d hide in our robes. Of course we never thought we’d actually have the opportunity to do this. The chances of us getting jobs in the same place were incredibly slim. Nevertheless, when I finished my PhD, she gave me a flask engraved Dr. Bunny. And when she finished her PhD, I gave her a similarly engraved flask. And this year, the dream came true. We attended commencement. We sat in the back. We drank from our flasks. It was AWESOME. Next year she’ll be gone, but at least we had our moment, and that’s pretty remarkable.
I also attended the ceremony because my husband was graduating. He’s only 20. Does that creep you out? No, for serious, he just finished his MBA. As I listened to the speaker droning on, I began thinking about the fact that he started this program the same month we started trying to conceive. And that things might get better for us now that he’s done. Because…lately I’ve been feeling bummed about things in our household. We have become incredibly lumpish. We spend all our time together watching TV. I probably only cook dinner twice a week. Other days it’s take out in front of the TV. He’s put on about ten pounds and that freaks me out. Our sex life is not so great. In short, my life has turned to shit.
I’d been attributing these changes to IF and to the death of my father. But…he’s been working a full time job that requires lots of travel while simultaneously getting this degree. And while I certainly told myself on many occasions that he was stressed and I needed to cut him some slack, it didn’t really occur to me that him being LESS stressed might change things. But…it might! It might actually be the case that life gets better without me having to do anything! HOT DAMN!
Or things might stay the same and I’ll just become super resentful. Stay tuned!
(Special request: I’d be grateful if you could avoid leaving me a comment in which you say, SUX 2 B U! I’m so glad my partner and I have an awesome sex life and that my partner is perfectly fit and lively, and that we spend all our time making delicious food and creating wonderful works of art and having intellectual conversations…and, by the way, I have really shiny hair! While I’m sure that’s all true, it would make me feel even more ashamed.)