With the dan camp, seminar and tournament looming, I'd obviously been coming under more stress - stressed Enny is not a bundle of fun (you all know hormonal Enny is also not fun) but I'd hafta say I had no idea how cranky I'd be getting in the middle of it.
The entire seven days (Tuesday - Monday) were spent with a pain across my shoulders - some days it would ride right up into my neck and down my spine, other days it was nothing more then a noticeable tension - this is where I carry my stress.
The seven days were also a collection of 5 hour sleep nights, dreams of tournaments, fleeting moments of panic before dawn where I'd grope around my bedside table for clarity on the bedside clock to double check I hadn't slept in and had set the alarm. I'd come home late in the night, prepare everything for the next day (uniform, food bag, check the to-do list), shower and go straight to bed without much talk to The Hun in between.
Part of the organisation of our tournament including organising helpers - people selling food, taking the wife of the Grand Master out sight seeing, selling merchandise, operating the sound equipment - and I'd asked The Hun to be at the hall at 8am on the Sunday to sell the merchandise. I'd also asked Mumsy and Dadsy to be there as The Hun didn't want to miss out on anything I was doing, and figured they could manage it between the three of them.
Sunday morning at 3:30am, The Hun crawled into a bed after a day /evening / night / morning LAN at a friends house... "Is it ok if I'm not there at 8 tomorrow? I'd only get 4 hours sleep...." "Yeah, sure, that's fine".
NOTE FOR BOYS: THAT NEVER MEANS IT'S FINE.
I got up early and left quickly on the Sunday and proceeded to run around like a headless chook all morning. The parents were also late (8:30/8:45ish) and I think The Hun got in just before 9.
I will admit that I wasn't really THAT angry at the time - I was too stressed and busy with other things to really think about what I was feeling, but I knew he would be in trouble later, and I knew he knew it, and he knew I knew he knew and so on.
The day was deemed a success, we packed up, I got changed in the car in front of where the priest guys live and Magf, the Grand Master, his wife, my senior instructor, my next senior instructor and I went out to dinner. Then Magf and I went onto drinks with others from around the place, getting home 20 hours after I first left the house and promptly fell into bed.
The next morning he took me into work with him as I had to pick up my car - it all seemed fairly fine, and I met up with him for lunch after dropping my seniors at the airport. All also seemed fairly fine that night night, tho there was some tension as he made some digs about my veganism at my parents house, causing them to arc up on me about how it's bad for me. Then talk turned to my plans for the next day (Me: QUESTACON!; Everyone else: DO YOUR ASSIGNMENT). You should all be fairly aware that questacon won out.
Back at home that night was when (more) reference was also made to the fact that he was glad as I was back as there was no food in the house as well as some other 'special time' references. Being totally exhausted I crashed out almost straight away...
The next morning I made some reference to him about how he was in trouble for not being on time - I lost my cool a bit, but sent him an email apologising for being snappy at him, with no reply. He came home that night and it was almost like I hadn't said anything, until the time I went TOTALLY NUTS that he'd LEFT THE HOT WATER TAP DRIPPING AGAIN (please note, this is my pet hate) and I went to sleep in a bit of a major rage.
The NEXT morning (Wednesday now, ppl), some more tense words were exchanged. It was then that my moment of 'brilliance' came about and I reeled off a massive email to him at work about how the tap pushed me over the edge, I resented the way it seemed he only wanted me back for groceries and 'special time', I resented the way he didn't respect me enough to turn up on time and I resented the way I didn't feel that I was special to him.
And when he came home late that night after sports? No talk.
And when I asked if he had anything to say? Nothing but a snappy no.
That's when I posted what I did and stayed up until 3am.
Thursday morning he got up without a word and STILL wasn't talking. It wasn't until Patch Adams was on Sunrise talking about how everyone should just love that he came up and gave me a hug.
And it's been great again since then.
The morals of this long winded story?
It's a hard one.
I HATE people being late - to me it is disrespectful, discourteous and a plain old insult. The Hun feels no such urge - he is a late bunny.
I HATE feeling taken for granted. I have no doubt that this is also proddly due to the proximity of the dan camp, seminars and tournament - you don't spend a week having close to 100 people answer your every beck and call and your seniors praising your hard work, to sliding back into real life where you're just 'one of us' without feeling some culture shock.
I HATE the way I compare everything to everyone else - watching the way my Grand Master ALWAYS opened and closed doors for his wife, let her order first, listened to her every word (You woulda loved him D'jen!) made me feel that I was pretty special too and should be treated so - and I didn't feel that I was.
I HATE the way that him turning up an hour late and not missing anything STILL wasn't good enough for me. He was still there for almost 9 hours...
His main issue seemed to be the same as mine - feeling unappreciated.
And on the one hand I could see that, but on the other two hands - Surely he coulda got up an hour earlier or finished earlier the night before when it was something I'd been planning for two years AND would I have even appreciated it had he been there on time?
Food for thought....!