There you go again, interrupting my train of thought. I am aware that the coffee is ready. I am perfectly capable of determining when I’m ready for a cup.
The fact is, before you broke in with your announcement, I was contemplating something deeper than the mundane. Suffice it to say, it involved arguments by 17th Century French philosophers, something only one of us is conversant in.
What? I NEVER interrupt your train of thought. When you are silent, I remain silent out of respect. Unless I sense you’re throwing a silent fit about some nonsense. Then I become your therapist. Sure, when an idea hits me, I want to share it with you. You are my wife. I am not saying you don’t have ideas. Don’t put words in my mouth.
My silences do not mean more than your silences. Nor are they more important. I do feel, however, based on 16 years of marriage, that my train of thought runs longer than yours simply because your silences are shorter. Perhaps this is because of your impulsive need to speak, something that I never considered a priority. I’m NOT claiming you are less mysterious. I’m admitting that I’m less communicative. That, in itself, doesn’t make me more complex. I choose to convey my train of thought in my journal.
How could you not know about my journal? What did you think all that writing was that I do every day? Doodling? You thought I was doodling? Who am I married to?
What do you mean that is not a study? Of course it is. It is NOT a laundry room. Laundry make be contained there, but anyone with eyes can see me jotting down notes as I sit in my leather sway back chair, lit by my Norwegian lamp purchased at Ikea. This is a gentleman of intellect, an intelligent observer would conclude.
You are perfectly welcome to use my study when I’m not there. I never said you could not sit in my chair and organize your train of thought. No, I am not claiming my train of thought is more organized than yours. And no, you may not see my private journal. Do I ask to see your recipe book?
This is wonderful, discussing boundaries. But now the damned coffee’s cold.
I am retreating to my study to think and try to regain my emotional equilibrium. No, I do NOT need an eraser. My train of thought never flies off course, never requires erasure. There had better not be any recipes jotted down in my journal. Never mind the coffee. I’m contemplating seltzer at the moment. – Joe Del Priore