As an adult, part of me keeps forgetting that milestones don’t automatically necessitate special days. For example, I expect my birthday to be all rainbows and kitten videos, but it usually just ends up being laundry and traveling home for Thanksgiving dinner (the “joys” of having a holiday-centered birthday usually makes things that much more fun).
The past six years have not been kind to my husband and I. We joked last night that we had more bad years together than good. We married in 2007 after four years of dating. The honeymoon period ended abruptly in January 2009, when the economy went to shit and we were more concerned with the struggle to survive than enjoying that newfangled marital bliss. But, in a weird, twisted, masochistic way, it was the ultimate test of whether or not we had made a sound decision in marrying and if we’d be able to handle all of the bad crap we endured.
Spoiler alert: we made it.
Honestly, I couldn’t imagine trying to weather the storm without Halbastram. I mean, sure, I could have taken the easy way out and found that hot baseball player I always imagined myself with when I was a teenager. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t consider it as an option until now.
Dammit.
Anyway now that we’re out of the hole, we’re working harder than ever to stay afloat. And after a long day of yelling at idiot drivers during the morning & afternoon commutes and dealing with work bullshit, sometimes the best celebration is the one where you exert the least amount of effort. So we went straight to our favorite local pizzeria in our work clothes and had a pizza, some fried calamari, a couple of beers, some wine, conversation & laughs.
I guess this is growing up.
Here’s to eight years of happiness and the occasional nagging. I look forward to many more (years of nagging Halbastram, that is; I enjoy that the most).
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