Man, let me tell you what went down yesterday. Woke up feeling like crap ’cause my partner and I blew up big time the night before. Stupid fight about dishes piling up again. Ended with slamming doors and sleeping on the couch. Damn it.
The Aftermath
Next morning, coffee tasted like poison. Couldn’t even look at her. Silence so thick you could choke on it. I kept grinding my teeth thinking, “This ain’t working.” Decided enough was enough – time to fix this crap.
My Messy Fix-It Plan
Okay, here’s what I actually did, step by ugly step:
- Cooled my damn jets first. Went for a pissed-off walk around the block. Twice. Stomped my feet like a toddler. Felt stupid, but breathing helped.
- Swallowed my dumb pride. Yeah, this sucked hardest. Walked back in, looked her dead in the eye (she was frowning at the sink), and mumbled, “Okay, sorry I yelled. My bad.” Wasn’t pretty, but I pushed it out.
- Shut up and listened. She started venting about feeling ignored, blah blah. My knee-jerk reaction? Fire back. But nope, bit my tongue raw. Just nodded like a bobblehead. Let her talk it dry.
- Asked the stupid simple question: “Alright, how do we actually fix this this time?” Neither of us really knew, shocker.
- Got real small with promises. Didn’t say “I’ll always do the dishes!” Fat chance. Said instead, “Okay, dishwasher gets emptied by me before I cook anything tonight. Deal?” Tiny. Specific. Doable.
- Grabbed the loser trophy. Bought her favorite dumb chocolate bar later. Didn’t say sorry again, just plonked it on the counter. Weak, maybe, but hey.
Right Now?
We ain’t holding hands singing Kumbaya. But the air’s clearer? Dishes actually went in the machine yesterday. Talked normal about boring stuff – what the neighbor’s dog dug up. It’s a work in progress, man. This crap takes actual effort, not magic wands. Still figuring it out.
