Acceptance

 For the lounge aficionados out there (if there is such a thing as a lounge aficionado) one might recall that in December of 2017 our hero here fell victim to a night of mind numbingly painful and crippling back spasms... a night where i was stuck painfully on the floor while the Breadwinner googled home remedies because she deemed it was too expensive to call an ambulance and have me carted to the ER to get some high quality drugs to knock me out and relieve the misery... that night, after spending close to an hour just trying to get up off the floor, i shuffled gingerly to a futon bed in the downstairs where i would once again gingerly fall into it seeing as that any movement made the spasms flair up again... it was here that i spent the next week barely moving and fearing the next round and it was also here where i vowed that i would never let this happen again, the back spasms that is... or at least try not to let it happen again... 

After taking up residence downstairs i noticed how much i enjoyed sleeping alone, i was woken up less, didn't have to deal with any snoring, didn't worry when i got up to take my late night piss about waking anyone up or worry about moving around with my new found pillow that i had to place under my knees to help the back, granted these day i don't have to use that pillow but for a year or two it was pretty essential part of my existence (i'd be lying if i didn't add it still helps and i still use it though it's not imperative)... of course now and then there would be a comment from the BW about when i would be returning to the upstairs bedroom and every now and then i thought about it but then i'd usually get fed up with being treated as some sort of incompetent hired help and decide i quite liked being downstairs by myself... in fact for a few years after i started sleeping alone i would hear some subtle and snide comments about me not sleeping upstairs and how it wasn't unusual for a partner to want to sleep in the same bed as their significant other... granted i wanted to comment that i was like an other without the significant and then i'd cite many statistics how the situation wasn't all that unusual... i'd then elaborate on how roughly a quarter of couples didn't sleep in the same room for various reasons and then go even further and point out how i was being nice due to the fact that when i moved i'd have to adjust the pillow and what not and how i would definitely wake her up and so i was looking out for her best interests... but the truth is for the reasons laid out above i really had no intention of sleeping in the same bed unless i absolutely had to.. 

(Side note: at one point when citing said studies about people sleeping separately i as going to point out that part of the reason of sharing a bed was for this thing called conjugal relations which someone had  seemed to become allergic to so if such activities weren't really on the cards i might as well get a good nights sleep... of course i was wise enough not to point that out since it would have been an game of finger pointing with most of the blame being leveled at yours truly which if fucking laughable... peruse the history of the lounge and other than the Story of 8-Ball i was never one to abstain and deny a woman her wishes, nudge nudge wink wink...) 

For the first few years i could tell it still irked the BW that i hadn't come back upstairs and though i wanted to explain that this situation had deteriorated into a MINO (marriage in name only), why bother? i was acutely aware of it and i'm sure she was as well and while it doesn't reflect well on our communication skills or the health of the relationship it was basically functional... it's what's called the family business, the people involved might not like each other or be attracted to each other but in the name of running the household and "protecting the assets" we bury our heads in the proverbial sand and give the impression as if everything is alright... it seems to me that this is sadly a type of American white middle class bullshit type of existence, a statement more on the consumer and capitalist culture and the reason why there are so many on-line sites helping people fill in the missing pieces (aka finding people to fuck... it's also the reason people separate after the last child has fled the nest, the realization that they'd be happier apart...)

Fast forward seven years... (strange to think the lounge is now 18 years old), we had come back from the yearly shit show known as vacation, this year being particularly trying due to a certain boyo, and i noticed the lovely smell of cat piss coming from somewhere, of course it took me a few days to figure out exactly where and of course it was a blanket and the futon/couch i slept on... seems Phat Paco had decided to mark his territory while i was away or maybe he was showing his displeasure with my absence, (much has been written on this subject and those smarter than i tend to assert that it's not that said feline is pissed, no pun intended, but stressed and anxious and that somehow pissing all over their favorite humans clothes or bed makes them feel more secure... though i still tend to think it's cuz he was mad at me, though i'm quite happy to know how much he loves me...) and so i set about cleaning up the mess with various types of cleaning products used for this very purpose but as those with cats know, cat piss ain't no joke, and so while i got most of the smell out it wasn't as if it was gone... of course i could have moved back upstairs but the BW's cat sleeps with her and is quite skittish when it comes to other people though i'm sure she'd have been alright with me but if given the choice and being honest about it the BW would rather have her cat sleeping with her than me... which to be blatantly honest is also perfectly okay on my end... 

Now if there is one thing the BW is proficient at it's perusing the virtual halls of commerce known as online shopping, she often sits at the kitchen table or on the deck pulling on her e-cig, asking what i'm making for dinner, complaining about things not getting done, she also scrolls away and buys things, which becomes particularly bemusing when i hear how "we're" spending too much money... what's this we shit? the only money i spend i earn from the old gig, which isn't much, but does keep me stocked in weed and shrooms, the occasional record or book, a smoothie, i don't ask for much and i definitely am not about to ask the BW because while she likes to pretend this is a partnership i often hear the words "my" and "I" when it comes to money, meaning she's the breadwinner, hence her name... so imagine my surprise when she began asking me about a new futon/couch for me to sleep on... the thought of me heading back upstairs must have really frightened her! as she did her usual research she even asked if i just wouldn't rather have a day bed (whatever that is) seeing as that might be more comfortable... needless to say it was all sorted in a day or two and few days later a truck showed up and dropped off the new futon... in two boxes of course, i'd have to build my own bed in order to sleep on it and though it sat there for a week in it's boxes in the hall it was soon assembled and ready to go... Paco and i had a new place to crash and i sat him down and had a talk about not pissing on this one (though things were put in place just in case he did and for the record he had never done anything like that before)... he purred and gave me a few head bumps and settled in to his usual corner and took a bath... 

It wasn't lost on me how quickly the BW had moved in procuring me a new "bed" to sleep on... there was no talk of "maybe you should just come back upstairs", no subtle and snide remarks... it was "here look at these and tell me which one would work", it's basically the same one that was in that room, courtesy of the Swedes... it was the level of acceptance that i believe surprised me as i can honestly say that once i discovered what had happened i had resigned myself to cleaning the futon and sleeping on it regardless of it's condition, fact was i did for about two weeks though i had put layers of sheets down over the old futon, in the end though the BW had no intention of my moving back to the bedroom and it was actually comforting to know, in a way we know where we stand, my role as glorified personal assistant is just that, i cook and clean and drive, i listen and nod and do what i'm asked even when those tasks are mind numbing, she considers my pushing the cart through the aisles "quality time", i consider another activity "quality time" but that's been absent for too long to mention and the reality is there is no going back, it's a business now, we all know our roles even if some don't always acknowledge them, but they're now accepted... maybe that's progress? or maybe not... maybe i'm just a whore (metaphorically speaking of course) for a decent place to crash and a nice vacation... but then again it is America and the culture often pimps us out to something... 

With the new couch built Paco is once again happy and spends his time going back and forth from my chest to my feet... he likes to give me the big eyes, as i call them, and then walk up and lay on my chest, which sometimes isn't the most comfortable thing given his size but the fact is when he lays there purring and head butting me what can i do? we call it Paco and dad time, it usually lasts about 20 minutes or so or until my arm and shoulder fall asleep and i have to move him at which point he makes his way back down towards my feet and his favorite spot on his favorite blanket... the next order of business might be to try and get more of my stuff actually stored in the room instead of upstairs, sort of officially turning it into my bedroom but i'm still gauging how well that would go over (as well as putting a turntable in said room so i could listen to even more records).. but regardless at least i have a new, (and for the moment) cat piss free place to crash... and more amazingly no one seems to have any issue with it... 

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Before i had a chance to hit the old publish button a new development occurred... seems the new kitty Korra likes to harass the BW's girl Maya every time she tries to use the litter box, the situation being that the BW was having to take Maya down and guard the door so poor Maya could do her thing, Maya being the skittish cat type wasn't real thrilled with things and the BW decided it was too much work to escort her a few times a day decided to order some hidden litter boxes for her room... one looks like a plant and one like a bench with the boxes hidden inside... why two? because Maya if very particular and uses one to pee in and another to dump in, so now she has her own private boxes and the BW doesn't have to take her down to the main ones... the problem was she needed to have me move more of my stuff out of the room to make space for the bench litter box... i almost started laughing when i was told to move the stuff and half considered asking her if there was a way to outfit the room i sleep in so i could move all my clothes downstairs, maybe even my turntable and then the separation would be complete... see in the evening if i go in her room i'm often asked what i'm doing in there, i'm not allowed in if the BW is changing because "people don't do that", which i find funny cuz i know a lot of couples who have no problem changing in front of each other, yeah kids the writing has been on the wall a long time but at least there i progress being made.. or something like that... (last note, said kitty has yet to use the new boxes and still wants escorted downstairs...)