I haven't talked to Kristin for two weeks. She's at her parents' house; I'm at mine. We didn't talk much for most of July either, except to fight. I hate fighting. My instinct is to wait it out. From what I've seen, nobody stops a fight when they realize the other person has a good point. Fighting is a loud hiss - venting - and I would rather let off steam in private.
That doesn't make me less of an asshole. I sound like an asshole when I am speaking precisely, or when I am being critical, which is too often, since I am so seldom wrong.
I have a certain way of doing things. It's a correct way: researched, logical, precise. When my ways meet resistance, I am confused and frustrated, because my ways are correct, and all anybody else needs to do is paint by the numbers. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the methods I use to sell books online. I have systems, and the systems are the only way I make money. I want to work less while making more. It's not a fantasy, because I know how to do it.
We are fighting because we each have a different view of how the business is going. I see room for improvement. Without increasing overall effort, I believe we can improve accuracy, efficiency, AND volume. I know exactly where to focus those efforts.
That's a moot point. I'm not working with Kristin anymore. It has always caused friction, because I am far too awesome at this job, and she can never live up to my ridiculous standards.
I don't know how our marriage is going to work out, but working together sure isn't something that's going to fix it.
The problem is that when there is a work related issue, it flows seamlessly into a personal relationship fight. This means I am living in a nightmare. We can't fix work, because it is impossible for me to even suggest there is anything to fix, and doing so makes me an insensitive asshole. To make matters worse, I don't show love, Kristin feels unloved, and I am a shitty husband.
There is a whole spiderweb of issues and variables at play. I would like to start sorting all those out, but I don't think I'm invited to the table unless I bring flowers. I am not in a hurry to bring flowers to somebody who has begun in earnest to step all over my nuts.
I hate all this shit. I am riding my bicycle instead.