My husband and I argue a lot. About small things. In a healthy way. Italian style. Unlike other couples, we are so ridiculously close, and from ground zero have been attached at the hip, that in these moments, it is almost a relief to finally have some friction that allows us to find that space for ourselves. Even if is a life-altering, world war 3-type dispute. One of our roundabout arguments starts around 10pm every night.
“We need to stop this movie, so we can get to bed” say I, coaxingly, keeping my voice light. “No, just a few more minutes – I want to see if the prostitute’s children get into a school in Calcutta” he begs. Okay, I think, I’ll give it a few. He knows I’m ready for bed and this was my warning. I don’t want to be uptight or controlling, but having different bedtimes has never worked, and frankly, when it comes to sleep, I am a uptight controller.
30 minutes later…”Sweetie, can we switch if off now? I want to be up at a reasonable hour, and we’re both a bad influence on each other. We’re sleeping in these days past 8, and I want a proper schedule” say I, with emphasis. “Alright…” he drawls…(pause)…To my relief he’s on his feet. But then, as he disappears round the corner, it’s: “Let me just check my email”.
We come from different continents, and universes, my husband and I. When the phone rings, my heart stops beating for such a split-second you wouldn’t notice, and 9 times out of 10, I just let it ring. Technology, for some random and inexplicable reason stands for bad news, in my world. And even if an email I received at 10pm on a Thursday night was full of lottery winnings, inheritance notices from a long-lost great aunt, or tax refund specifications, that would affect my ability to fall asleep. Sleep – a currency so valuable in my family home growing up, my parents simply never woke us. And I recall clearly getting beatings for screaming out in the garden during my mother’s daily naps. My sister, to this day, goes to be in pitch darkness, with ear plugs, a mouth guard and a fluffy eye mask. Yes, she is single – but that’s another story for another day.
I round the corner, yawning, having finally completed my Sephora-inspired beauty ritual, to be overtaken in 5 year old style, by a sprinting fully grown man, who leaps onto his side of the bed, clutching the remote, tuned to the evening news. It’s midnight, and now in his world, is the time to make sure he’s on top of all happenings on our glorious planet. One of those teensy little downsides of not living together while dating is that you discover only after promising to spend the rest of eternity that you’ll fall asleep together, that your husband would do anything not to ever have to go to bed. Not that I’d trade him or change him for a second, of course.
So in answer to C. Beth’s 1 Minute Writer Challenge of the day (oneminutewriter.blogspot.com) “What modern technology would you have trouble living without?” I would have to sheepishly admit that no matter how attached I become to Steve Job’s latest brainchild, at the end of the day, I know that it is these gadgets, together with my husband who collects them, that most keep me from getting the fullness out of my life.
