Sunday. Got back from our trip to Lalandia, which was alright. Nothing but hard work as much as our role as parents concerned, but I was expecting that. At least this time I didn’t have any work hanging over me, made that part so much easier. The kid loved it; the swimming, and the play-land, and it was good to spend some quality time with her before taking off to Las Vegas. The house was fine, no complaints, but of course the weather was crap. The funny thing was this, I got out the door in the morning to fetch something in the car, and the morning cold and dampness, added the fact I was going to retrieve something for use with the morning ritual, got me thinking straight back to when I was in the airforce. The exact same setting and time of year and sense of obligation to something or someone other than yourself. I didn’t do it well then, and I couldn’t claim to be wonderous at it today, though of course what was hell at the time is not exactly hell today, merely somewhat boring and repetitively tedious. But a funny thing, to be right back like this. I think that time of my youth really got to me; can’t make up my mind if I’m better off or not if I hadn’t had to deal with it. Probably better off, but I guess I’ll never find that out. ~~~ A bit of an argument tonight, which I walked away from, in which she says she’s tired of having to listen to my comments about our monetary situation, in as much as I’m presumably blaming her for spending too much when our sole source of income is yours truly. Qoute “then you can throw that one at me, as if I’m supposed to be eternally grateful or something”. Was glad I walked away. Truth be told I expect her to be eternally grateful, so I guess it’s easy to spot where our differences lie. I look at how we spend our time, I find that all I have at my disposal are stolen moments, too often than not I even feel slightly guilty about them, such as taking the time to pen this entry. I realize that this is how she herself feels about her life, particularly going to bed around nine along with the kid. The difference, which is major, is in how we have brought the situation about. She’s in it for the kids, her reasoning behind getting them was that “it’s my highest wish”, wherefore I cannot bring myself to symphatize as much when she’s in disarray on how to deal with them when sick or unruly. Or when she expresses remorse that she has no evening to her own devices. I don’t have those, but this is not because working my ass off is the highest wish I ever had. I do it because it’s a necessity, as without the income from the extra work I put in we would be utterly fucked beyond economical repair. So her’s by choice, mine by necessity. And yes, I expect her to recognize this, and be grateful; I help her fulfill her highest desire, and furthermore pay for it all. Ah, hell, I should probably admit some to myself, that a) I have come to love those kids dearly and would gladly surrender my time to pay their way, and b) I do harbor hopes that the company I run will become successful, making myself rich in the process. So there are other reasons behind my working so damn hard, my own ambitions betray me, just a bit. I suppose it’s easier to blame her entirely for the time lost when I could’ve enjoyed myself. I’ll keep that in mind for further debates of this kind, it’s not fair to her otherwise. ~~~ On ‘enjoying myself’, here’s Las Vegas looming in the foreground. Just a week and a bit before departure. Will be great to get some private time, to find my complaints met, and then I’m sure I’ll be able to relax a bit further. ~~~ Tomorrow Monday. Am hoping for a quiet day.