I got a nifty little phone call today. My husband's doctor's office about a bit of insignificance and, it just so happens, I'm not allowed to hear details over the phone because HE HASN'T AUTHORIZED ME to do so.
Well.
I'm starting to rethink all of the forms that on which he's my one and only. I might have to start making some calls. I mean, fair is fair.
I'm legally obligated to pay off all of his debts in the event of his death, but I can't find out what killed him.
I'm also entitled to all of his worldly possessions upon his demise, so there is an upswing there. I can't wait for the day until that stack of Scientific American are mine and mine alone.
Not so. Those are hitting the Goodwill or the recycling bin. (Especially now that I found out I'm not married to you HIPPA-ly ever after.)
But in all actuality, there are some interesting bits that come out of those Scientific A-blah-blah-blah magazines. Usually, they surface when I'm trying to read something that's actually interesting and he's trying to regale me with theoretical gobbledy-gook. We're something of a matched set: I know about the good stuff and he mops up all of the rest.
Last night, however, the Scientific American proved that I'm not too much of an over-anxious, overly worried nitwit. (It's good to be assured of this occasionally.) The boy was reading (and then regaling me) about a study or op-ed or some such thing about the needless bits that average Americans worry about, i.e. carcinogens in food and other things that I can't now remember because I was maybe only half listening. And at the end of this list, the boy stopped and asked me "Are you worried about any of those?"
You feel like you really know someone and then you find out that they're not even positive about your deepest fears and about the things that keep your mind racing at night.
No, spouse. Those are not in my wheelhouse of things that drive me batty with worry. (I could easily match that list point by point and then some, though.)
I'm not a completely overly zealous worrier of inconsequential but socially popular non-issues. It's like I'm a less than average worrier. I don't have to be worried about my worrying. Three cheers for that.
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