This isn’t really a foaming-with-anger post, so I didn’t think it belonged in the Pit. But, I just had to do something to garner pity and support for my miserable position this weekend. To wit:
I live in Chicago. Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago is a BFD, and while normally I can ignore societal pressure to drink for drinkin’s sake, this is traditionally a pretty well-celebrated holiday for me. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have nothing to do for St. Paddy’s, and I don’t think I can handle Saturday night TV, so I may just have to go crazy.
My son and I just moved in with my boyfriend, who is a graduate student. Before moving in, it had been our (my and my boyfriend’s) custom to go out on Saturday nights, and while we didn’t often party hard and stay out late (he’s something of a homebody, unlike me), we usually did something - dinner and movie, parties, occasional trips to bars. Upon moving in together, we agreed that we should maintain the kid-less Saturday nights to spend some QT together and also spend more time out with our friends, something we had been neglecting when we were starved for time alone together. I’m very lucky in that I live close to my parents, who babysit my son most Saturday nights. It’s a good situation all around, as it gives my son (and me) the chance to spend time with my parents.
Well, the boyfriend’s planning on working on a very important paper this weekend. I can’t really get upset about that, except that he has been consistently putting off working on it. I know he’s had ample time for the last week to work on it, but he’s done very little so far. He has said this is because our apartment was in a state of disarray due to the recent move, and there were so many things to get done that he was constantly distracted. I’ve been trying my damndest since we moved in to give my boyfriend quiet time in the apartment to get studying done, but he wound up using that time to putter around and watch TV. But - this weekend he is going to Get It Done. Fine.
End result: four weeks into cohabitation, and I have yet to set foot out of the house for anything besides work, errands, and frequent kid movies/bowling/walks to the park with my son. The first two weekends we were still straightening up, getting out of boxes, etc., so the three of us worked on it together, and now we’re about 80% settled in. Last weekend, I took my son to my parents’ so we could…drum roll please…buy drywall anchors and speaker cable. Whee.
Now, don’t get me wrong - I don’t expect to get wined and dined and go to the thee-a-tah every single weekend. I appreciate evenings at home sometimes. And, I knew what I was in for as far as his studying needs. But I also need to get out once in a while! A movie! A beer! Anything! Throw me a bone here! And St. Paddy’s is just the proverbial straw here. My friends have already made plans that I, for one reason or another, can’t partake in at this late hour. So I’m stuck at home…on a Saturday…on St. Patrick’s Day…listening to my boyfriend type and watching the Saturday-night-Crap-O-Rama. Maybe I’ll go see Shadow of the Vampire by myself.
Am I just a big baby? Whiny? Selfish? Inconsiderate? Am I overreacting too early, or is this a harbinger of things to come?