MILESTONES...

Ever since Annabelle and I have been together there have been fights...no,let's call them disagreements that number less than the nigh on 14 years (or is it it 13? All this marital bliss has clouded my memory)that we have been a couple. Seriously, we just don't fight. It's as simple as that. Try as we might, we just can't piss each other off to the point of yelling and name calling that I hear so much about from my married friends.
Until tonight.
I left work and went and did a side job...uh,I mean helped out a friend. And after she and her room mate and me and Mike went for margs. Then, me and mike went to another new mexican place and had more margs.
I dropped Mike off at his house and went home. It was 6:30pm.
The lights were not on. I thought, "hmmm...must be a power outage" until I tried to rinse a glass in the sink and the water flowed for about a nanosecond,then I knew I had a problem.
Our power and water had been cut off for non payment...again...it's not an issue of money,we have the money. It's an issue of the person in charge of the utility bills being a flake. Is that person me? NO. Am I the person who has to deal with the problem? YES. Is it unbelievably annoying? YES. How so? you ask. Let me explain...
Come home to a dark house with no water, try Ann's cell to ask about the utility bill status...no answer ( why she even owns a cell is beyond me...she NEVER answers that motherfucker) Same deal with the work phone...never at her desk.
At this point I'm fairly agitated and decide to deal with it myself...again.That amounts to a lot of being on hold
and pushing buttons into my phone, this time with a headlamp to illuminate the terrain I'm currently deployed on. I fucking hate having to wait for service beyond a reasonable time (I'm convinced the city leaves you on hold for extended periods no matter how busy they are to punish you for being tardy)and I hate phone prompts that require you to punch in numbers and pound signs and especially "press one for english"...I shouldn't have to do that in england...I mean america,where english is the official language,unless you happen to be a "guest worker" (press two for en espaniol) god that pisses me off, but I digress.
So, after an hour or more on the phone on the back deck in the dark with a flashlight on my head to illuminate the small numbers on my bank card and my utility bill, I deal with it...again.
Annabelle calls in the middle of this mess and gets a piece of my mind. I'm yelling and cursing and admonishing and bitching, I say fuck a lot in all of it's permutations but stay on task...focused on what I'm mad about.
Annabelle gets home and in the light of my headlamp there's some more bitching on my part.
Then:
Me: The god damn motherfucking power won't be on for an hour and a half...so I'm fucking leaving and shopping. I'll be back later....uhhh...what are you doing about dinner?
Annabelle: I haven't eaten all day...I'm really hungry.
Me: Do you wanna go eat somewhere?
Annabelle: Yes...I would if you can bear to dine with someone who has so deeply disappointed you by not paying the utility bill for the umpteenth time resulting in the city cutting us off again , then yes,I am hungry.
(actually, all she said was " I haven't eaten all day, yes I would like to go eat somewhere )
So I said...Fine...we're going somewhere new, let's go...And we went to Sazon.
We ate,we drank...we shared events of the day and in the end, the lights were on when we got home, and that's all that really matters.
Right?
Well...it works for us, and as for the rest of you that squab about insignificant shit...get the fuck over it, OK?