My planner is my best friend. (Just don't tell AK....)

So, the hubby and I had a... discussion... today about our schedule.  Complicated feelings in something that would seem so innocuous.  He feels like he is overscheduled.  Too many things planned, too many responsibilities in the week, not enough time for him to do that which he wants to do.  And I totally get that.  He is a creative guy, a musician, and he doesn't get enough time to work on the recording that he loves.  It's important to him, and it feeds him in a way that nothing else does or can, and there needs to be space for it.  And right now there isn't enough.  And that's a problem.

But it's also hard for me to understand because I tend to thrive when I'm overscheduled.  When I have appointments followed by work followed by a coffee date followed by a rehearsal I tend to be the most productive and focused.  I can buckle down and get results in a way that I can't when I have too much time to dabble.

Don't get me wrong, burnout is bad.  There was a patch last July where, between the world cup, two plays and a wedding, I thought I was actually going to lose my mind.  I understand that there's a limit.

But I also like looking at a planner where there's something special ever week to look forward to.  This week we're having friends over on Saturday night, next week we're going to see Billy Conolly, the next week a rehearsal with a swing band, the next week a show at Soulpepper.

And in addition, I like having weekly dates to look forward to.  My friend Lise and I are writing a play together, and once a week we meet.  And I always look forward to it, because I know it will be three hours of focused creative work, no matter how many bar and catering shifts have squeezed there way into my week.

The hubby's issue is that the things he enjoys and wants to spend time on are the things that he cares about the least, and the things he loves don't get to be a priority.  And that's a tough one.  One without an answer.  And that's the part that's hard for me to take.

I can't make it better.

Man, that was hard to write.  I have much love for the hubby, and, as such, I just want him to be happy.  Have joy.  But as I don't make enough money at the bar to support our new little family, I can't do anything about it except try and maintain a balance of what I want to bring into our lives to add fun and special times vs. what time commitments he can handle without getting frustrated.

Sigh.  This marriage stuff is complicated.

In the throes of a head cold from Hell....

Last weekend I went to my niece's first birthday party.  She is the most wonderful and adorable baby to ever crawl the earth.  The epitome of baby perfection.  Unfortunately, one of her baby playmates at the party was a snarling demon from Hell, sent to London, Ontario to give me this miserable cold.

GRUMPY!

My head is stuffed up and I'm sneezing all the time and I'm starting to cough and my brain feels like fuzzzzzzzz.

I've also become addicted to Tylenol Cold & Sinus.

And my husband's snuggles.  They are a key ingredient of the healing process.

Groan!  Whine!  Mope!