3 months of new job….and marriage, done!

Well it’s been 3 months since I got my new job as a drug rep.  I am very happy to say that I’ve pretty much figured out the basics and I’m no longer studying at 1am, or driving around I-45 trying to find my doctors.  Hallelujah for that.

Also, I’ve been married for almost 6 months.  I am happy to report that for the MOST part, the marriage has been a pretty amazing time.  I adore my husband.  I think he is the cutest thing in the entire world, I really do.  I feel beyond blessed to be with him.

But, no matter how good things are, sometimes my mind will play tricks on me and I will imagine things that aren’t there.  Or I’ll create things that weren’t happening but start to happen because I turn into a crazy nut.  Seriously, I found myself sobbing on my bathroom floor a few months ago because I had convinced myself that my husband wasn’t happy.  Truly, I was sure that he regretted marrying me.  Why did I think this?  Oh… well… I mean I cannot even say, it’s just that I went slightly nuts. 

So for all of you girls out there wondering how they can get on their man’s nerves, let me break it down for you.

1. Tell him you love him.  All. The. Time.

2. Ask him if he loves you, too.  

3. Ask him if he is happy he married you.

4. Tell him you worry, often, that he regrets marrying you.

5. Sit in his lap constantly.  Like, while he’s reading, while he’s watching TV, and particularly on hot days when he’s already a little bit sweaty.

6. Repeat 1-5.  Every ten minutes.

So I could go on, but you get it, right?  I am a crazy person.  I don’t know why I torture myself, but after a solid 6-8 weeks of being CONVINCED that Oatmeal did not really love me, I fell onto a heap on my bathroom floor and sobbed, HARD, for what felt like an hour.

Then I noticed a dustball behind my sink.  I realized I had not vacuumed my bathroom floor recently.  I picked up a piece of toilet paper that I’d been using to mop up the massive tears on my face and began to clean the baseboard with it.  Of course.

Before long, the Windex, Clorox, sponges and paper towels were in the bathroom with me.  Then I started on my closet.  I soon heard footsteps behind me.  Oatmeal was behind me, having returned from horseback riding, and he put his arms around me from behind and hugged me.  I turned around to kiss him and his eyes got WIDE.  I remembered that before I was cleaning, I was sobbing.  He could definitely tell!  Well, I tried to tell him that sometimes I just cry, and that maybe it was my time of the month, and not to worry about me because I can just be emotional.  He just stood there, kind of looking at me.  I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not.  But then he said, “Okay honey.  I love you.  I’ll be nicer.” 

I didn’t really respond because truly, after the cry, I had realized on my own that the problem was me.  Oatmeal is a great guy, and a great husband, but he is quiet.  Did I expect that by marrying him, he would begin showering me with compliments and public displays of affection? 

If so, I’m an idiot, because those things didn’t even happen when we had been dating for a matter of weeks. 

But, when he said he’d be nicer, did I reassure him that he’s wonderfully, impossibly nice to me already?  NOPE.  I did not.  I looked at him and said, “Okay honey, I love you.”  I let him hug me, kiss my cheek and baby me for the rest of the night.

I am a pathetic girl.  This much cannot be changed by marriage.  I don’t know why I thought it could.

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