A Fight

Sir and I had an epic screaming match Friday night when I got home. We don't usually fight. Ever. And Sir NEVER yells, especially at me.

I worked 52 hours over the past week. Normally, I work 40, and when I was working at Helljob, I averaged about 36. This week has put quite a strain on us because when I get home, I am too tired to cook and too tired to play. All of that came out with a vengeance on Friday when I was catching up on my emails and stuff--nothing that couldn't wait, but something I hadn't been able to do all day. We were catching up on our DVR and Sir asked me a question. I wasn't paying attention and didn't answer. Something else happened, and then we were screaming at each other. Full blown screaming match, no punches pulled.

And then I pretty much told Sir to go F himself and went up to bed, where I seethed and cried myself to sleep.

Saturday morning, I woke up to Sir's arms wrapped around me so tightly I couldn't breathe. I tried to move so that his elbows weren't poking me in the side, and he held me tighter, telling me that he didn't want to lose me and he thinks we just need more time together since we've barely seen each other at all this week. We started having a rational discussion about the problems and then we ended up making out and having our first make-up sex ever. It was fantastic, and then we had a day of just us until we had a friend over to go see a movie.

After the movie, we asked the friend over and talked about it a little with her, and she and her husband have the same problems when their work schedules don't line up.

So my goal this week (which shouldn't be as bad since I'm leaving early Christmas Eve and I'm off Christmas Day) is to not let my commute put me in a shitty mood and to not let my electronic devices distract me from Sir. We had time with friends yesterday and we're having another friend over tonight, so that will be a nice way to get out of the rut. We don't normally have friends over because they all live so far away.