>Life around chez Virago and Bullock has been a little tense lately. Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing relationship-threatening — it’s not even about *us*. It’s just that we’ve both been sick lately, we’re both worried about our retirement investments (like every other couple in the country), we’ve both got relatives much closer to or in retirement who we know or surmise have even more to worry about (we’ve at least got many years to try and make it up), and on top of all that we’re in the midst of a tense contract vote at work that, if it passes, will gain our household a lot of income, but may hurt some of our friends on the health insurance side of things, and so we don’t know if it will pass or not, and if not, what happens next.
All of that is bad enough, but then to that add election season in the household of one wonk (Bullock) and one less wonky but informed and concerned citizen (me).
And if all of that weren’t crazy-making enough, Bullock is a Cubs fan. Or rather, a Cubs FAN, for I really need to emphasize the fandom part. Like all true Cubs fan, he is intensely devoted. Yes, he is really bummed right now. Honestly, I think they need to move election season away from play-off season, as there has been a LOT of yelling at the TV lately. It’s freaking Pippi and me out.
So, with all that in mind, I present you a scene from yesterday morning. It was my turn to walk Miss Pippilicious and it was drizzling pretty steadily, so I grabbed an old baseball cap from my closet, a cap I had purchased in the city of my graduate studies only because it had the initial of the city prominently displayed on it, which matched the general style of the cap of the team of my youth and also the cap of the team of my college and pre-grad school years in the Big Apple, both of which caps had long since worn out. I’m big on adopting the city in which I currently live as home. I really had no dedication to this team from the grad school years, or to any of those other teams (except maybe the team of my youth), so I wasn’t thinking. I was just thinking of protecting my head from the drizzle.
I walked out of the bedroom and met Bullock in the hall.
I’ve never seen a grown man look so sad before — like a kid whose ice cream just fell off the cone onto the sidewalk.
“You’re wearing a Dodgers cap! How could you?!?!”
I am a bad and thoughtless girlfriend.