I went on a bike ride again today. Had to put some money in the bank to cover autopays, and thought I'd ride a trail I haven't been on before near the bank.
Didn't tell Candi I was doing it. Didn't say I was doing something different. She just didn't ask.
So I parked, locked the driver's door, put the key in my pocket, got the bike ready, put the rack in the back of the SUV, stripped off my cargo shorts and dropped them by the rack, closed the hatch, put on my helmet and gloves, put a foot on the pedal, and . . . .
Patted my gym shorts pocket, the little jingle jangle having tinkled in the back of my head.
Car key in cargo pants pocket inside locked car.
I actually did almost exactly the same thing with the same car several years ago. I left work, put the dogs (different dogs then, much bigger) in through the back hatch, and realized just as the hatch clicked shut that I'd set the key on the floor by the rear door.
Click, "Oh shit." That one took a borrowed phone and call to a locksmith. $40. Worth it to see the guy's face when he saw the 105 lb and 90 lb dogs inside.
This one was half the cost, except to the ego. In the wake of that fiasco, I've gone to the two-key system. Always use one and have the other in my pocket. Except I'd left the backup key on the dresser at home. Good thing, because both would have been in that pocket inside the car.
I called the hermit formerly known as the dour teen. He's 20 now.
He agreed to grab the key from the dresser and come out, if I pay him for gas.
I'll give him $20, more than the gas. Even though I can't count the number of times I used my own gas to go much more distance to take him to game nights and pick him up after--clear across the metro area. That was before he got even more anti-social than he is now.
Of course, he's the one with his full rent for next month and, he's said, September as well, before he runs out of what he earned from his couple of months working security.
Anyway, while he was on the way, I texted Candi to confess to my dumb moved.
Her only response was to ask I don't go too far and take water. That seems a major victory for self-determination. Or maybe it's that we haven't signed the new lease yet. But this was startingly like a normal relationship, where one recognizes the right of the other to go off and do something.
She did respond, "No fair," when I sent a pick I took of a few geese next to the lake I rode around.
It was a lovely ride. A good distance at a fast (for me) pace with a few hills.
Meanwhile back on the job hunt, I got a rejection on an attorney job and continue to be ignored by an insurance recruiter who said he'd be back to me in a week--nearly 3 weeks ago.
Oh, Candi did a little huffing and puffing last night because she wanted to have sex, to make up for not having a good orgasm the previous night when she was rubbing herself raw. I stood by giving her a day to heal, though she swore she was fine. We argued about it, but I didn't yield. And she gave it up.
Just more evidence that if I'd treated her like a three-year-old having tantrums from the very start, instead of reasoning with her and yielding when it made sense to yield, things would have gone much better. I should write John Rosemond about this relationship.
Or get out of it, of course. The money I put in the bank to cover autopays brought me down to $200 total reserves, after paying the dour former teen. Not enough to cover my share of the rent. I thought I'd have that much left, but I've been buying the gas and some of the groceries when I have cash in my pocket. That is too much of a factor.
I mentioned to Candi a couple of nights ago that she doesn't see the principle of reciprocity as applying both ways. I didn't put it that way, of course. But she had just said something about something not being fair because I got to do it and she didn't. I said I agreed, but pointed out she doesn't see any need for me to get the same things she gets. She claims strategically that things are equal, but then undermines me when it's my turn.
So I do rat-fucking little shit like sneak out for a bike ride she can't go on because she works. And kind of hope it sparks a fire that blows me out the door. But then she is so damn reasonable.
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