I have spoken openly about how I don’t understand addiction. To me, if you attempted to quit something and found that you could not, then it would be all the more reason to quit. Still, I am thankful not to have too many addictions in my life. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. Okay, I have a slight addiction to comics and action figures but that is not necessarily a bad thing.
Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your point of view), when you get married, you find yourself living in harmony and consort with your partner. Suddenly, even if you do not have an addiction, you find yourself struggling and coping with your spouse’s addictions. And to me, this is ten times worse because you can only help a person get over their addictions. You are not necessarily in control. And that person has to want to quit.
My fellow bloggers, America, we are all friends here. We can be open and honest. In a way, it helps alleviate my pain to get it off my chest. I love my wife to death but she has a crippling addiction that manifests during this time of year. As much as it pains me to write about this, I have to be honest. It consumes her to a point where she is no longer herself.
My wife is addicted to Black Friday.
For those that need explanation, Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving that official kicks off the Christmas shopping season. The deals are enormous. Every business is trying to draw in the shoppers. People stand in line overnight, gorged on turkey and probably still a little drunk, to get a great price on a Widescreen plasma TV or the top-of-the-line computer.
And this day is Amy’s Super Bowl. She begins salivating. Any mention of the Internet sends her in a furious scramble to see if any more Black Friday adds have been posted… even if she was checking even an hour before. She meticulously plots her route, plans to get all the best deals, and prepares to fight in mortal combat with the throngs of shoppers all looking for the sales. She is positively giddy the night before. She barely sleeps. She will be out the door before 5 a.m.
And what is my job during this momentous morning? Stay at home and watch the kids. Which translates into sleeping late trying to gestate the impossible amounts of turkey, pumpkin pie, and cranberry sauce from the day before. It’s a tough job but I manage somehow.
And as this time of year is overflowing with the Christmas cheer, I have tried to fend off Amy for as long as I could. Like a battling Qui-Gon Jinn, I have had to work my green lightsaber furiously against the twin blades of her Darth Maul lightsabers. That angry buzzsaw sound issues through the house and as mightily as I have struggled, she has punched me in the chin, pivoted, and put the bottom blade of the double-bladed saber through my gullet. Today, on the evening of the 12th of November, the Christmas tree went into place. Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas decorations but much like a contemplative Charlie Brown, Christmas just seems to be coming earlier and earlier every year…
Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your point of view), when you get married, you find yourself living in harmony and consort with your partner. Suddenly, even if you do not have an addiction, you find yourself struggling and coping with your spouse’s addictions. And to me, this is ten times worse because you can only help a person get over their addictions. You are not necessarily in control. And that person has to want to quit.
My fellow bloggers, America, we are all friends here. We can be open and honest. In a way, it helps alleviate my pain to get it off my chest. I love my wife to death but she has a crippling addiction that manifests during this time of year. As much as it pains me to write about this, I have to be honest. It consumes her to a point where she is no longer herself.
My wife is addicted to Black Friday.
For those that need explanation, Black Friday is the day after Thanksgiving that official kicks off the Christmas shopping season. The deals are enormous. Every business is trying to draw in the shoppers. People stand in line overnight, gorged on turkey and probably still a little drunk, to get a great price on a Widescreen plasma TV or the top-of-the-line computer.
And this day is Amy’s Super Bowl. She begins salivating. Any mention of the Internet sends her in a furious scramble to see if any more Black Friday adds have been posted… even if she was checking even an hour before. She meticulously plots her route, plans to get all the best deals, and prepares to fight in mortal combat with the throngs of shoppers all looking for the sales. She is positively giddy the night before. She barely sleeps. She will be out the door before 5 a.m.
And what is my job during this momentous morning? Stay at home and watch the kids. Which translates into sleeping late trying to gestate the impossible amounts of turkey, pumpkin pie, and cranberry sauce from the day before. It’s a tough job but I manage somehow.
And as this time of year is overflowing with the Christmas cheer, I have tried to fend off Amy for as long as I could. Like a battling Qui-Gon Jinn, I have had to work my green lightsaber furiously against the twin blades of her Darth Maul lightsabers. That angry buzzsaw sound issues through the house and as mightily as I have struggled, she has punched me in the chin, pivoted, and put the bottom blade of the double-bladed saber through my gullet. Today, on the evening of the 12th of November, the Christmas tree went into place. Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas decorations but much like a contemplative Charlie Brown, Christmas just seems to be coming earlier and earlier every year…
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