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they are putting themselves in great danger. Crappy Husband has learned this over the years, but sometimes he forgets and he does something stupid. He speaks to me.

    He sees me wearing what he presumes is my chosen outfit and gives me a compliment. How dare he!
    I’m many outfits away from being ready.

    Realizing this, he asks for a time estimate. Which, really, is the worst possible thing to say. I am so absorbed in my angry ritual that time does not exist. But he reminds me and now the clock is ticking and there is pressure and panic.
    At this point I say that I’m not going. Which is his cue to leave the room.
    He adds that he loves me, but even that makes me angry.

    Thankfully, we don’t go to fancy functions very often. And I’ve learned to lock the bedroom door to keep everyone safe.
    DR. INTERNET SEARCH
    My knee has been hurting this week so I decide to look it up on the internet. That is the answer to everything. Look it up.
    The internet comes in handy for looking up really important things like movie stars’ names you can’t remember and what your pirate name would be, based on the color of your underwear. It also comes in handy for looking up medical questions.

    The internet always has a diagnosis. And it is rarely good news.

    I’ve diagnosed myself with so many rare diseases thanks to internet searches. I’ve never actually
had
any of them but I’m still thankful for the consultations. How did people take care of themselves before the internet? Did they have to go to real doctors and stuff? Imagine!
    MISINTERPRETATIONS & MIND READING
    Sometimes, we have misinterpretations in our lines of communication. It can go both ways.
    He calls me on the phone on his way home from work and asks if I’ve planned anything for dinner. Which I haven’t.
    Since there is no dinner planned, he suggests:

    Rather than be grateful, which would be the sane response, it makes me furious.

    For some reason, in my mind, what he is really saying is that I’m a huge failure. Clearly, what he really wants is a 1950s housewife with dinner waiting for him on the table who doesn’t have her own career or interests and only lives to clean the house until she dies of boredom. (I’d also wear heels and dresses and aprons, so that part isn’t so bad, I guess.)
    He really just wants to pick up some burritos and come home.
    Misinterpretations usually happen when I attach hidden meanings to his words. But they aren’t actually there. He is a dude. He says what he means. It is simple. When I remember this, things are much easier.
    I, on the other hand, am not a dude. I’m a woman. I often attach hidden meanings to
my
words. They are like little directional signs to help him. I don’t always take the easy route and say what I mean. Instead, I say something else entirely with added directional signs tossed in that will help Crappy Husband arrive at the right conclusion.
    The other week he asked if I wanted to go to a late movie. It was a movie that I didn’t particularly want to see. Also, it was late and I had to be up early the next morning.
    But this was my answer:

    He didn’t see any of my three directional signs! You can see them, right? Arms crossed, which is saying, “No, please protect my body from this movie.” The subtle way I stated, “Well, we could go . . .” was really me saying that in theory we
could
go. Not that we actually
should
go. Then I followed it up with a question about the lateness, which was clearly me stating that it was much too late.
    Then I got annoyed when he bought movie tickets online, since I didn’t even want to go.

    We replay our conversation and I explain that he completely misinterpreted my movie interest.

    He may call it mind reading, but I call it navigating a conversation.
    P.S. We went to the late movie and it was great. Oops. Sorry, dear. You were right. Again.
    ANXIETY
    There have been a few times when I’ve experienced above-average bouts of anxiety. Like when I have to fly on