I never know, exactly what it is, that I want.
When I’m hot I want the air conditioning on, feeling the need to be cooler.
So why it is when I am cold, I want the heat on to be warmer.
It is never “just so”.
When I eat sweet I want salt. When I eat salt I want sweet.
The other day I was telling Husband of a concern or two I have about him. When he sleeps he puffs out loud puff balls of air. Or snores loudly. Both of these snoring techniques I put in one category: annoying. OR. He is in such a deep sleep that I have woken on numerous occasions to think with horror, and quite with seriousness, that he was dead. One night I was nearly in tears because his skin was cold and his chest was not moving.
I had to shake him to make sure he was still alive.
He was alive.
I could have slapped him.
When I pointed these issues out to him he said “so no matter what I do I cannot please you”. Well, fine, if that’s how you want to take it and it’s the only thing you get out of that.
He totally missed the point.
I was concerned.
I was concerned.
I was concerned.
Whichever form of emphasis is more believable, please accept.
The point is when he snores loudly or puffs air balls all night I long I want him to breathe normally and with rhythm. Or. When he is so soundly asleep that his body apparently doesn’t need air nor does his skin need warmth, again, I want him to breathe normally and with rhythm.
There are days when I so badly want to go on a bike ride. Or go for a run. But I don’t want to go to the trouble of getting ready to go work out.
I want to lose weight but I eat Giant Kit Kat bars.
I don’t want to get old. But I don’t want to die.
There seems to be, as Husband points out, no pleasing me.
There is more to this than that.
I just haven’t figured it out yet.
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