Ten-Finger Exercises

Jealousy does bad things.

I am unhappy with the emotion jealousy.

First, Bill was unhappy--no, not nearly a strong enough word!-- angry at me for not paying him enough attention Saturday. He was jealous of my wanting time to myself, and mad that he was working outside in the cold while I turned my hair red and deleted spam from my email. The last time he made an impassioned plea--that's casting a very charitable light on it--for my better attending to his various needs for help, I reviewed my behavior and decided I did need to do better by him.

For the past six weeks I have been putting a lot of time and attention into researching, planning, buying and preparing good and healthful meals, three a day, that would help him get his blood sugar down and thereby keep flying. I have learned a lot about diabetes, and although I have not taught him much, I have gotten him to comply. I thought that was okay for a first step, like losing weight is a good first step for controlling blood sugar. It's been working.

But he wants my attention day and night. He wants to talk to me, or read to me, regardless of the fact that I might be trying to read my own book, or write, or even think my own thoughts, for God's sake!

So when he got mad Saturday and showed it by nasty comments, sarcasm, and finally shouting at me that he wanted me to quit writing, I said no. Absolutely not. In the first place, that isn't all I'd been doing. I'd been shopping on line for a birthday present for him (which I abandoned,) and researching some Thanksgiving recipes with low carbs. Of course I also read some blogs, but not a lot. He places all the blame there, that I'm wasting time.

He has relented and is trying to be nice today, but I'm not in the mood. He says he just wants to be with me, not have me isolated behind a computer, but that's not true. He wants all my attention all the time. I feel like I could lose myself here, and I'm not going to let that happen, to be sucked up in his interests and requirements.

Second, I'm unhappy--and this is really childish!--to see the same names always getting the good marks in NavWorks' class. I can feel all the childish, nasty remarks welling up, the sarcastic and disparaging comments about the winners' skills and the teacher's bias, none of which they deserve.

I don't usually get sarcastic when I'm angry. I don't like sarcasm. This is more a feeling of hurt, of not measuring up again, and it's too familiar at the moment to bear more of.

To end on a cheerier note, here are some pictures of my summertime drive to work.

Side window view of the hills.


The field that was bumper-to-bumper with geese on a day I didn't have my camera along.


Through the windbreak to the hills beyond.