When I was a kid I remember reading a couple books with older scholarly gentleman who were refered to as being absent-minded. I always found it to be a curious description. The kind of word that is used mostly in print and not as much in conversation. Something akin to Franklin W. Dixon's (The Hardy Boys) use of the word careening. Now as an adult I find myself indentifying with that queer trait more and more.
Today at work I was absent-minded. Not because I was inventing some kind of Rube Goldberg device, but because I couldn't stop thinking about going on a date with my wife. I would find myself interacting with customers, folding up spinach, bacon, and cheese omelets, and all the while thinking of how I could spend an evening treating my wife like royalty. I had just spent all week abusing her like a lowly peasant, it seemed that a little princess treatment was in order.
One of the unfortunate side effects of being married ten years is that you get very good at taking your wife for granted. On top of being unappreciative of her finer qualities, I have also developed a knack for taking out my stress on her. This manifests itself in childish displays of temper and lashing out for no good reason. Inexcusable. Sometimes the best you can do is have a conversation with mutual respect on a human level and apologize for acting like an ass. And, every once in a while you get a chance to go out on the town.
Planning a romantic time together isn't as hard as some would have you believe. All it takes is a morning of absent-mindedness at work.
- Posted from my iPhone
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