"First I Run Zen I Walk"

Ya know, sometimes I feel like no matter what I say or do it's gonna be the dead opposite of "right". There are days I'm surprised I'm not putting my shoes on the wrong feet or I've gotta double and triple check that I'm wearing clothes before I leave the house. 

I've had a lot of those days lately. Probably some byproduct of cutting back on hot wings or something. Whatever it is, it's annoying. It needs to stop or I'm going to end up doing something stupid like forgetting to get my coffee in the morning. Who are we kidding, I'll never forget my beloved coffee. That sweet nectar of life. 

What I have done, instead, is learn to set reminders on my phone. Just little notes to myself to keep things in order. They usually go like "step one: look around. Everything seem clear? Yes? Then you're wearing your contacts. No glasses today. 

Step two: is everything fuzzy? Yes? Are you wearing glasses? Yes? Then you've still got your contacts in. Take your glasses off, idiot. If it's fuzzy and you don't have your glasses on then put them on. No contacts today." I had to set that one when I realized i kept trying to wear glasses while I had my contacts in. Almost panicked thinking my vision got worse overnight. 

Another little note to myself involved making sure my shoes matched. Thought I was limping until I realized I was wearing a running shoe on one foot and a high top on the other. Fortunately I caught it before getting out in public. That would've been embarrassing. Good times. 

I guess I've had a lot on my mind lately. Or nothing at all. Sometimes it's a fine line I reckon. Obviously, I've not been overly bright lately. I thought of getting a pet monkey to help dress me or something. 

So what do I do when I can't focus? I work out. I push myself harder. I run farther. At home that's not a big deal; I've got a stationary running machine. I just get on it and go like I'm on a hamster wheel until I can't move. 

That pet monkey would've come in handy last night. He could've reminded me I'm not at home. Out here on the road running to exhaustion has consequences. Just little ones like "which way did I run when I left the truck stop? How many turns did I make? Where in the blue hell AM I?" 

I thought I was going to have to call a cab to find my way back to the truck stop. My legs felt like I had molten lava running through my veins. Just standing was becoming painful. Walking back God knows how far to the truck stop seemed an impossible task. There was definitely not going to be any jumping rope when I got back. Yes, I jump rope as goofy as that sounds. 

So I google mapped my way back to that good ole trucker haven. 6 miles. Seriously?! I didn't feel like walking 6 blocks much less 6 miles. And I suddenly had a craving for hot wings. 

On the long, long journey back to my truck I reflected on a few things. See, here recently I did something very atypical. I lost my cool on someone. Yes, usually I'm kinda sarcastic and snarky but this time I went off in anger. 

It takes quite a lot to get me to unload on someone like that and it's actually extremely rare that I do. When I do, however, I let loose in epic fashion. Even I was stunned and surprised by how venomous my words were. It's not something I'm proud of but I suppose it was a long time coming. 

The magnitude of my anger was such that I even went to see a therapist to figure out what the hell happened. I was supposed to do phone sessions with her once a week but it's ended up being 2-3 times a week so far. Mostly because I want someone to talk to. Not to feel better. Not even that I need counseling. Just boredom. Hell, the diagnosis was "you got mad. People get mad when they've been mistreated. You're officially 'human'. And it sounds as though SHE'S the one in serious need of counseling." I just call now because it's boring and lonely out here. At $90 a pop it'd be cheaper just to take up drinking I suppose. 

As it turns out the good doctor seems to think the guilt of having lost my temper and hurting someone I care about is normal. Apparently, however, me finally snapping was understandable. (I'll point out here that she did say she was impressed with my patience in waiting a year to actually come undone). But here's the deal, folks, losing my temper gained me nothing. 

Yes, I was in a very emotionally and psychologically abusive relationship for a year. I was on the receiving end of things if you can believe that. It almost sounds absurd even to me. But I learned a few things. 

One of my friends recently told me he knew what a challenge I'd dealt with. My response was that fighting a great white with your bare hands, that's a challenge. Traveling to the moon in a hot air balloon, that's a challenge. This woman wasn't a challenge, she was a life lesson. One that destroys your emotional and psychological equilibrium. 

And there's the lesson, guys. You can't let someone do that to you. You can't let them keep putting you down. Especially not when they're doing it right in front of their family and friends right in front of you. You can't believe someone like that loves you. If they clearly can't respect you then they certainly can't love you. 

I've listened to people talk about their abusive spouses and wondered why they'd stay with someone like that. I've wondered why they'd believe the tears and the "I'm sorry, I'll change". Now I understand. You get used to it. The abuse and misery becomes comfortable. 

In the end of it one of the things she'd said was that she can't be with someone who doesn't respect themselves. Internally I scoffed. Of course I respect myself. But then I thought about it. Allowing her to disrespect, mock and belittle me on a nearly daily basis wasn't very self-respecting either. 

Why am I telling you all this? Do I feel like a victim? No. I'm no victim. I allowed it to happen. Repeatedly I'd mentioned the lack of respect and repeatedly it was talked around. But don't let it build up, guys. Just walk away. 

If you're with someone and you hear them talk badly about all of their friends, think about what they're probably telling them about you. If they're bad mouthing you to their family right in front of you when you're meeting that family for the first time...walk away. 

I've said this in other posts and I'll say it again: none of us is in a position to judge anyone else. None of us. 

Don't let anyone devalue you. Don't let anyone treat you like you're not good enough. As was my case, don't accept it when the person you're with says "I'm out of your league". I call bullshit. When they tell you "you're poor white trash and I deserve better", call bullshit.

We all know that if there's one thing I hate most it's double standards. So how I put up with many of the things I put up with I can only chalk up to the fact I had actually become addicted to the smell of bullshit. Maybe I should trade my trailer again and start hauling livestock. 

If someone you're with tells you they deserve better than you then the odds are you are the one who deserves better. Better treatment. Don't let anyone make you feel inadequate. Oh, I could go on here and do a "compare and contrast" of her life against mine but that's not what this is about. 

Sadly, I do regret losing my temper. I do regret that things ended in a fashion where we can't be friends. Yes, I've tried to make amends and stipulate mea culpa on going off the way I finally did. Yes, I do regret that she hates me now. I do believe that she did care at one point in her own twisted way. And I did care about her. I loved her deeply at one point. But I've gotta care about me more. 

We all do it. Some people get so used to being unhappy that they fear the absence of it. I was the same way. I talked to Molly for 4-6 hours nearly every day for over a year. 

It becomes addictive when it's good. But it's like being a junkie. You enjoy the high so much, no matter how brief it is, that you don't see the damage it's doing to you. 

These people, these drugs of the heart, become a need. Become enablers. They enjoy that they have this control over you. They feed off the love you give them. But it's all false love. It's...it's like the high is what you love. 

Once the lows start to become more frequent, once you start to see the person they are underneath then things start to unravel. The euphoria becomes shorter and the addiction starts to consume you. You take the abuse just so you can have even a hope of the high you used to have.

You can't fix a cycle. A cycle is precisely that...it's an unending loop. The only way to "fix" a cycle is to break it. 

When Molly and I got back together last year she asked me why she does what she does. I told her back then that this has become a pattern of behavior for her and the only way to fix it is to break that pattern. And I thought she'd finally done that. I thought the cycle was over. Then I saw it start again in August. And we started fighting shortly thereafter. 

Neither YOU nor I can break THEIR pattern of behavior. All we can do is determine to break our own. 

If you've been down this road before, like me, and you start to see these same behaviors in your partner, address them. But be prepared to walk away. You've gotta love yourself more than you love that sweet pain.

My Zen Thought for the day is this: don't let ANYONE determine your value. Ever. If someone can't appreciate what they have in you, walk away. 

"Ooohhh, shiny!"

Way back when I was a kid, (you know, like 100 years ago), I spent some time living with my biological mother, Judy. We didn't get along real well but I did learn a few things from her. Lessons I didn't even know I'd learned back then. One of those lessons recently came flying back at me while I was out with friends the other night. 

I hadn't seen some of them in months, some in a year or so, and some I met for the first time that night. It was a good night. There were about 10 of us sitting around eating, drinking, swapping jokes and stories, and catching up on lost time. It was like a family really. I was actually surprised when the conversation turned towards philosophy and religion. 

There we were, a group of people, all having had different religious upbringings and rationally discussing the differences or origins of major religions. That's a pretty impressive feat these days. Normally someone would be offended if you poked holes in their beliefs. 

Not us. We would sit back and go, "ya know, you've got a point about that." Or, "hmm, I never looked at it that way." 

I felt comfortable and at home. Some of these were people I'd just met and they were smiling and laughing as they accepted me just as I am. Now, granted, several people did point out that some of my behaviors are vastly different than they were even 6 months ago. Not "bad" different, just more..."I'm holding back what I say so I don't upset anyone" different. 

Took me a good little bit to relax myself enough to remember that these people enjoyed the objective yet honest, uncensored me that they'd known for nearly a decade. Although I was oddly uncomfortable loosening up at first, I eventually swung easily into talks of philosophy, religious history and even got into literary discussions with a few people. It was great fun. 

We were there long enough that our original waitress, the one who'd been dealing with "socially awkward, reserved and self-censoring" me ended up finishing her shift. So waitress number 2 was around for the bulk of the philosophical religious discussion. You know, "round 2", where we (ok, mostly just me) orders more food and the evening starts to get its second wind. 

I guess she'd been hearing snippets of the conversation and asked where I was from. I don't know if it was my lack of an accent or what but she'd determined I definitely wasn't a local. So I start talking to her about Florida. Seems she visits there a bit, herself, and had recently returned from a trip there. 

Well, as a proud dad, I started showing pictures of the boys and our trips together. By then we had stepped away from the table so I could better show her pics of my kids. She was wanting to know what I'm doing so far north and I point back towards the table and say, "visiting family." During the brief discussion it came up that I'm a truck driver, which she thought was a nifty job. 

Once she found out that I also write a little (I'm not sure if writing the occasional poem qualifies me as a writer but it's just easier to explain it that way) she wanted to see some of what I write. Next thing you know she's wanting to look up my website on line and asking how to keep in touch.

It wasn't until I was leaving that someone pointed out that "look" in her eyes. Ah. I'd accidentally sparked some type of interest. Oops. Somehow I'd become that "shiny".  Everyone loves that "shiny". 

Which led me back to thinking about the first time I'd seen that look of someone stricken by the "shiny". Back when I was that kid living with Judy, she introduced us to what I think was soon-to-be-husband number 4 or 5. I lost count along the way. But I do remember that she was all "in love" with him for a while. He was her new shiny. She took me and my sibling to his house fairly regularly for a while. She started talking about a future with him. The whole nine yards. She was "finally going to be happy", etc, etc, ad nauseam. 

The problem was, with her, once that shiny wore off she'd get bored and go out looking for another shiny to play with. And that's where the pattern starts to show itself. That's where problems come in with people and relationships, it seems. 

People like that endorphin high of their new shiny. Right up until the shiny wears off. Then, suddenly, the traits you found "refreshing" or "endearing" become annoying. I've seen it my whole life, that pattern. 

We go into relationships or friendships or even business partnerships because we enjoy that shiny new person or situation. Many times we enter into relationships hoping the person will change and they don't. Or they do but not enough or in ways to our liking. Or hoping they won't change but then the shiny mask wears off and we either don't like what we see or we need to find a new shiny because it's really just the shine that we are attracted to. Like cats attacking garland. They just can't leave that stuff alone. They're drawn to the shiny, literally.

Or, worse case scenario and my personal favorite cat astrophe, when the person changes but then you realize you liked them better before and hate the "new and improved" version. Man, that scenario SUCKS. I've been on both sides of that one. That's like watching a deer get hit by a train in super slo-mo from multiple angles...just ugly all around. 

We look for reasons why it's "just not working out". When, in fact, what we aren't happy about is that it's not new anymore. It's just not what we signed up for. We signed up for "new, exciting, shiny" and what we end up with is "boring, predictable and not shiny anymore". That's when we start reasoning out excuses to leave instead of reasons to stay. Our tastes change if our partner won't. Or our partners have to change to meet our changing tastes. 

Where have we gone as a society? Is it that humans are evolving to just enjoy that "rush"? Or have we always been that way? Maybe that's part of what has spurred mankind to seek new continents, explore the stars or take to the skies. Our need to find that next shiny thing. Maybe that's really all it is, curiosity. An attraction to the unknown or unexplored. Something deeply ingrained in the human psyche that can never fully be ferreted out. 

Now, I've talked to some friends about just this problem. We've "round tabled" it because it doesn't make much sense to me. The best solution we've been able to come up with is that it's a generational thing. Maybe my generation is the last of the "fix your problems" generation. We remember when effort was required just in making telephone calls. We remember when working at something was just something you did. 

Perhaps it's because the newer generations have been taught that everything is disposable. There's a new phone on the market? Throw the old one away and get the new "greatest thing". In relationships I call it getting "better dealed." It's like people think "yeah, I'll stick with you until something that seems better comes along." The only problem is that that "something better" is only better until the shiny wears off. 

This "disposable generation" seems willing to toss things out, even if they're perfectly good, rather than put in any effort. Or rather than to actually work for it. There's a distinct lack of accountability or responsibility that goes with this generation. Feeling fat? Lipo it away. Instant gratification, throw away what bores you. Meanwhile, more and more marriages and relationships founder, the next generation coming up learns to be even lazier, we remain driven towards whatever is fun while disregarding everything else. 

Now, in the interest of fairness, yet another opinion was posited to me by another dear friend. Looking at things from her point of view I can see where she makes a lot of sense. Psychologically, it's pretty sound as well. I don't normally just directly quote people but I can't find a better way to put it. So, in its entirety, (the only edits I made were to clean up a couple colorful words here and there) here it is:

"I have an opposite view of the new generation. Maybe it's because at work I train all our new employees, who are usually 18-24 years of age. As a Captain here I have the opportunity to see both the "gimme" side of these youth (as I call them) and the "I gotta make the world better" side to them. Because they're the first generation to come from mostly divorced parents who WANTED children, they're prone to feeling drawn to "shiny", as you call it, because their parents fought for their attention by buying them new things. Mom bought you a phone, son? Lemme buy you a computer! See these kids' parents both had jobs, and money. Ours did not. It was ingrained in these kids at a young age that "things" equal "love and acceptance". Because they come from this background, they try desperately to be better than their parents. They actually tend to make better relationship decisions and they don't marry young like most of our generation did. They may date for years before even talking about marriage, because they don't want to divorce. They are also waiting longer to have children, because they're scouting out an appropriate mate extensively. They may get every shiny new thing on the market, but they'll earn it themselves before allowing a member of the opposite sex to make them feel inferior by buying it for them. At least that's my perspective. I work with the strong-willed ones, though. It takes a strong personality and a tough outer shell to do what I do. So I have a chance to see what these youth are truly made of. They're the first generation to feel like they need to leave the world better than they find it. They contribute to charities, they volunteer, they recycle, they eat organic farm-fresh vegetables because they believe they're contributing to their community farmers, they buy local, they shop in trendy local-owned clothing stores, they buy old homes and fix them up to breathe new life into the community, they feed the homeless (and feel good about it). I think our generation tends to turn toward every shiny new thing more than the younger generation. In my opinion, that's because we were kids of the 70s and 80s. When our parents divorced, our dads didn't remain. There was no fighting for our love, we were left to wonder if one parent gave a shit about us. So we became the generation that found solace in the excitement of someone loving us. We cling to every hope that someone might love us. But as soon as that love requires effort, we lose interest. Because we feel like someone should just love us. We feel like we're good enough now, damnit. We shouldn't have to change or grow for someone. Eff that. Our dad left us and we'll be damned if we're gonna "change" ourselves for someone else. We deserve love just the way we are. Eff it, we'd rather be alone than try to make effort....only to be left by that person later. Because our generation were mostly abandoned by one parent, we feel like we'd rather let go of someone when shit gets hard, than have them leave us. These new kids have a different view of the world, for sure. But it's better. They view it as a group effort. They want to feed the poor, and save the hungry, and adopt abandoned children, and get a job that allows them time to be active physically, etc. Sure it seems like they lose interest in things like relationships. And they do. If the relationship isn't a good business decision for them, they will leave it in the dust without even looking back. But when they marry, it's for a purpose. It's because they've thought long and hard about what they want. They don't marry someone they can live with. They marry the one person they can't live without. That's why they'll give up on relationships that don't work out effortlessly. They want a best friend and partner in life. And when they realize someone isn't for them,  they're done"

Maybe she has a point. Maybe being children of divorce where there is a vast difference in income between the two houses also factors in. 

Anyway, there's your food for thought for the week. 

"Oh Sheet, It's Grog"

Molly never makes demands of me and rarely makes requests. When she does, though, it's in an effort to improve my quality of life. I appreciate that and try to make her proud when she gives me tasks to complete. 

It's usually simple stuff because I'm a guy and I have a limited attention span. Anything over 5 minutes and I might start watching cartoons and forget. Usually it goes like "honey, I'd really like it if you drank some water occasionally." 

'Mmm. Grog can drink water if it make Molly happy.'

A day or so later, "Did you have any water today?" 

'Um, Grog forget. Grog go get water. I'll call you right back, angel." Then I'll go inside the truck stop to get a bottle of water, pass by the tv room and an hour or two later she'll call.."You know I only mention these things because I worry about you, babe." Right about then I think my silence gives me away as I remember what I was supposed to be doing. I know she knows because she gives me that laugh. You know the one, guys. The one that says "what am I gonna do with you?" It's like she knows the odds are I got distracted and forgot. 

'Crap. They had the TV on. I forgot again. Grog try harder.' That's usually the point I'll write it on my hand "water. No tv til you drink water. Idiot." 

It went on like that for a few months because I work outside tarping and stuff and I sweat a lot. Something about her wanting me to be hydrated and not die. Eventually I just bought a case of water so when she reminded me I'd have it handy. And I'm proud to say I've had only 1 soda in about 2 months. (Not entirely true. I haven't kicked sweet tea yet. I'm from the south, you don't just "quit" sweet tea) Mostly just coffee and water though. I feel healthier. Considering I'd been living off Mountain Dew and coffee I think I'm doing much better now. Because she cared but she was understanding. I'm sure it was her plan all along but she let me think I came about the idea all on my own. Women are kind to us that way, they let us believe we are in control even when we all know we would still be living in caves if it were up to men. 

So today she made a request. Another valid one that's for my own good. Let me start by reminding you she's very very tidy. I'm very very...not. My truck has been referred to as a "rolling biohazard". Molly won't even get in it without a double layered hazmat suit and a flame thrower "just in case". Honestly, it is pretty bad even when I don't have the dogs with me. 

She worries about me and knows I don't sleep well. I don't have sheets on my bed and there are piles of "stuff" at the foot of my bed. Some I can identify and some even I can't explain. So much so that I don't really stretch out. According to some research that's just not healthy. If science is to be trusted. I still think "science" is a passing fad. 

The request? "You want something to do today since you're not working? How about straightening up at least your bed so you can sleep comfortably? Do something with all that stuff at the end of your bed, put actual SHEETS on your bed and try to make it look like you don't nest like a squirrel. You'll sleep better, I promise. Love you."

So I had my challenge and I accepted it. I thought "Grog will do good job and make Molly proud. Molly will smile at Grog when he done." What I didn't realize was exactly how daunting that task was. I thought I was slightly domesticated. Boy was I wrong. In my mind I was gonna breeze through this then sit back and watch a movie. It'd take 10 minutes tops. But here's how it actually went:

I walk across the parking lot to K Mart to buy a milk crate looking thing and some sheets. "I've got this." I walk in there with a purpose. "Sheets and a crate, that's our objective." I secure a crate like I've just freed a hostage. Woohoo! With the crate in hand I remember I haven't had lunch. I'll need a snack with my movie. 

Aisle 3: tuna, crackers and relish. Score! Wait. I need a drink. Gatorade sounds good, I'd like some flavor today. Orange. Got it. 

Well I've got my snacks, let's see what movies they have in the cheap movie bin. I finally settled on three titles. "Ok. Everything's in the crate, I'm headed to check out now". 

I get back to my truck with my goodies. "Crap. Wasn't I supposed to get something else? Think, man, think! Sheets." Shit. 

Back to K Mart. It's only about 300 feet so I walk in still chanting to myself "sheets, sheets, sheets" like I'm at a Martha Stewart concert as I reach the sheet section. What size do I need? Um, it's a pillow and a half wide. Let me go to the pillows to get a measurement. 

I found a nice pillow over there. My old one is pretty flimsy now so I'd better just buy a new one. I'm all proud of myself as I get to the register. "Molly is gonna be excited, you even got a new pillow to go with your..." Shit. Forgot the sheets again. How can this be so HARD?! Focus, man! 

Back to the sheet aisle. Found them. I'll just go with Full size. I'm a full sized guy, why not. So I read the package to make sure it has everything I need (like I'd know the difference)..."fitted sheet, flat sheet, 2 pillow cases. Awesome. Wait. Where'd the pillow go? Did you seriously just lose the pillow from the register to here? You're an idiot, I swear." Back to the pillow aisle. Found one a bit bigger than the one I had a minute ago. Time to go check out. 

I wait in line, put my new black sheets on the counter and my new pillow. Right next to the one I'd apparently left up there. Oops. It's alright, I like the bigger one. Molly has big pillows on her truck, I'll just try to make my bed look like hers. (That's like saying I'm gonna make a pig look like a Cheetah).

Back across the parking lot to the truck. I start pulling stuff off the foot of my bed and stack it neatly in the crate. The plan is to put the crate at the foot of the bed all tidy and shit. Good plan. Except when I start I realize one crate isn't nearly enough. 

Back to K Mart. Thank God it's close. Crates, Christian. You need like 2 more at least. They're by the pillows. Get in, get out. Standard extraction plan. You've got a black one so grab another black one and 2 red ones. Don't go all black, you're not Johnny Cash or some emo goth kid. Oh look, they have little ones too. I'm sure those'll come in handy. Grab a couple of those. Now don't look at anything else; just go up front and pay. You've still got work to do. 

So I get back to my truck. Everything is going smoothly. Stuff is either in the trash or in a crate. Look at me go! Alright, pick up the mattress and clean under it. Can't hurt. 

Time for the sheets. That's when things get complicated. 

There was an all out fight. Round one went to the fitted sheet. Apparently there's a lengthwise and a sideways. They should label them because you can only put them on lengthwise. I tried like hell but they just won't fit any other way. The mattress in my truck is fairly thin. Put the sheets on wrong and they will literally slap you in the face. I know this for fact now. Twice. And so will the mattress. How humiliating. 

Round two. I'd call that one a draw. Sure, the sheet stayed on but now my mattress looked like some four-cornered bowl. No way could I sleep on that. If it was waterproof I'd have been able to bathe in it. 

Round three. I was soaked in sweat like I'd just finished bailing hay. There was definitely some severe name calling involved though. At one point I thought I was gonna have to perform an atomic elbow drop from the top rope like a pro wrestler. Finally I emerged victorious. "Grog may need a beer now." Grog was seriously considering shots at this point. 

Flat sheet? Easy peasy. I even put my quilt on top and made it look nice. Then I started putting my crates in place. I'd been careful to get interlocking ones so they'd stay put when I drive. In theory. I'll know in a day or so. 

Alright. Now to apply pillow cases and I can relax. This is the home stretch! I get my comfy looking new pillow out of its secure case. It was all zippered into a bag that had a handle. Presumably this thing was intended to be carry on luggage I guess. "Pillow, meet your new home. This is my bed. That's where you'll be serving your life sentence. Since you came in a bag I'm gonna put you in a pillow case. Don't worry, it's black so you won't have to worry about the light anymore." (Don't judge me for talking to my new pillow, I was teetering on insanity by then).

What the shit?! This pillow case is too small. Well the other one is the same size. I'll try anyway. Yep, about 3-4 inches of pillow sticks out. Well shit. 

So I march back over to K Mart. Straight to the pillow aisle. Look, there's pillow cases but they're all white. And they all have zippers. Whatever, they show them on pillows and that's what I need. I'll take one. 

Back to the truck. I open the package, lay the "pillow encasement" next to the pillow. Yeah, they really called it a "pillow encasement" like it's for security and stuff. This damn thing is the same size as what I already had. Is this a joke?! 

Now I'm practically stomping back over to K Mart. The one cashier they had working was surely beginning to think I was casing the joint. I go back to the sheet section trying to figure out where I've failed. I find "extra long fitted sheets" (that would've come in handy an hour ago) and "extra long flat sheets" but no "extra long pillow cases". I looked up and down both aisles. Right about the time I'm thinking it'd just be easier to set fire to my bed I see a lady shopping an aisle over. Reinforcements! 

I approach her, probably looking like I'm about as lost as a cat in a doghouse. "Ma'am can you help me? I'll be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing." Fortunately, she was rather kind. "I'll do my best. What are you looking for?"

"Well, I bought this pillow but the pillow cases that came with the sheets are too small."

"So you bought a body pillow? Let's go see if we can find pillow cases for a body pillow." And away we go. She knew right where everything was. "Is this what you're looking for?"

"I have no idea anymore. I don't know what kind of pillow I got. I was trying to be fancy like my girlfriend. She's got a bunch of different sized pillows."

"Well, did you buy it here? Yes? Good. Let's go over there and you just show me which one you bought and we will go from there." Off to pillow land we went. Boy, I'm sure getting my cardio today. But we found it. Then...she made me feel even dumber than I already did. She flips the package over. "King size". Right there, plain as day. 

"So does this mean I've gotta buy king size sheets? My bed certainly isn't that big. What've I DONE?" 

Turns out there's a section to buy just King size pillow cases. So she took me over there. She was even kind enough to name the colors as she pointed to each of them. Clearly I'd come across as mentally deficient. Ordinarily I'd have been offended but I had no defense since I was too stupid to figure out to look at the package to begin with. 

Now I've got 3 pillows on my bed, each nestled in its own case. My bed is made, my stuff organized back here and I finally put on a movie. My "10 minute chore" only took 2 1/2 hours. I told Molly I completed my task and sent pictures. "Proof of life". 

We FaceTimed and I talked her through my torment as I showed her my crate system and made bed. She periodically gave me that "you're a big, dumb animal but I love you" look and even told me she was proud of me. She smiled. Suddenly it was all worth it. I think I've decided I'm just gonna buy another blanket and sleep on top of the sheets. No way am I fighting this bed again. It'll just stay made. And I think half of my task was intended to see if I could figure my way around the "domestication" section of the store. 

There should be a separate customer service counter where males can rent guides to help them buy this stuff. Like at the mall where you rent strollers but with females. "Cindy, you're up. Take this guy shopping. He has a list his Significant Other sent him with. Look at him, he's already got that deer in headlights look."