It’s 8:30 in the evening. I’m taking a shower, winding down for the day. She went out with coworkers after work. We’ve had a pleasant few days and I’m looking forward to catching up with her when she gets home over a glass of wine, maybe with a game of rummy, and like an explosion the bathroom door slams opens. “What the fuck!!!!! What the fuck were you thinking by mah mah mah!?!?!?!?!” She so volatile I can’t understand what she’s saying. I’m worried. Did I leave an stove eye on and burn the food. What had I done that warranted this response. “ Blah, blah, blah, Kettle, blah, blah”. Had I left the kettle on? “What did I do?” I replied. “You left the kettle bell downstairs you sorry sack of shit. Why didn’t you just put it up like a normal person you fucking idiot?!?!!?” she yells, and I scoff, “You mean the kettle bell I left in my office next to my desk?” My pleasant evening is ruined but she can’t let it go. “What in the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was doing kettle bells between meetings, and I was planning to do it tomorrow as well.” Endlessly she drones on. I try to walk away, not seeing the value in arguing over such trivial things, certainly not over a kettlebell I left next to my desk in my office, a completely separate room in the house. “I don’t even know why I care. I’m for sure going to get the divorce now” she quips, and we go our separate ways to steam.

A pleasant evening ruined. The cycle repeats.