I Mean Even The Vows Mention Death It Ain't Just Me Y'all

I try to keep my mouth shut sometimes, many times when I don't want to. When people say things that make me want to rip my eyeballs out I have to bite my tongue because sometimes it is just none of my damn business (I KNOW--can you believe that some people wouldn't want my opinion). I try very hard not to be an asshole and sometimes that is just a struggle.

I know a lot of people who are getting married soon or just got married or who haven't been married long. It is a sad commentary on our times that J and I, having been married for five years, sometimes seem like a wondrous and mythical couple to people. And people have some crazy ass misconceptions about what being married is like. Like people think it will make you happy or that it will solve all your problems or that it will make things easier.

Let me say this clearly and carefully. Being married to J is the best thing I ever did for myself. I love it. But it is also the hardest thing I have ever done. And it is something I have to decide to do every single damn day. Does this mean that it sucks? HELL NO. But it is work and expecting to come home from your honeymoon and be blissful every second without breaking a sweat is stupid and I am tired of your idiotic foolish face.

We perpetuate this myth, in this country in particular, that if you love some one living with them is easy. But living with anyone is hard, we are individuals, selfish and horrible. Sometimes J doesn't flush the toilet and DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE TO LIVE WITH SOME ONE WHO DOESN'T FLUSH THE TOILET? IT IS LIKE LIVING WITH A POORLY TRAINED MONKEY!

But that is what being married is. It is being home late and you are tired and hungry and your goddamn tooth hurts because the dentist banged the fuck out of your gums this morning and instead of yelling just taking a big deep breath and saying in the easiest, breaziest way possible, "Have you noticed that I do all of the goddamn housework around here FUCKER?"

I know that this is not what happens in Meg Ryan movies but I am just telling you that is how it is.

Of course it is also realizing that if y'all switch sides of the bed you wake up with a backache and Sunday morning football eating french toast and making the pug dance and noticing that he looks exactly like Karl Lagerfield and that is why you get up and decide to do it every single day.

I mean it does really help if you husband has a big giant cock.

Or so I have heard.

But it is work y'all. And I know it makes me unromantic and that is why I do not say anything to the blushing brides in my life. The work is what makes it worth it though. To go to sleep (or in my case wake up at two am to him stumbling in with two dogs and a cat and they all look stoned because they feel asleep on the floor together and are not even really awake and then everyone goes back to sleep) next to your beloved and wake up next to him (while he sleeps for another three GODDAMN hours) the next morning. Every day until you DIE.

Which is a much happier thought than it sounds.