This past Saturday was my 5th wedding anniversary, and the sad thing was my husband and I weren’t even in the same state for half of it, but it was nice when he got back home. However, instead of doing some great celebration on Sunday to make up for it we found ourselves at Lowes looking for a new light fixture for the kitchen, because unfortunately instead of just a blown light bulb the whole thing was broken. So we find this really cool LED one with brushed silver trappings to match the rest of the stuff in our kitchen. Pretty exciting stuff I know.
So we get it home and get the old one down, not too difficult, and then we get to plugging the new one in. Easy peasy lemon oh my god what hell have we gotten ourselves into?!? The main problem was that this one was set up to be flush with the ceiling and all the wiring shoved up in the hole, so you had to pigtail the wiring before you could screw in the back to the ceiling, which means someone has to stand on a ladder and hold it up while someone else on another ladder does the wiring. Of course I’m stuck holding it up with my pitifully weak arms and my horrible fear of heights just making it so much fun. And the wiring didn’t want to pigtail and my arms gave out the first time. Down we go, and then the hubby comes up with a good idea of half way screwing in one side while I hold up the other end with a broom handle, but it ended up the screws just wouldn’t hold up like that. So once more I decide to suck it up and climb the ladder, but sadly I’m just not tall enough when I’m on the shorter ladder, and the taller ladder needed to be for the one doing the wiring.
It’s getting rough and I’m thinking that our marriage is gonna fall apart over a stupid light fixture and everyone is getting frustrated and angry and just not having any of it. Then, upon remembering I have been in a wiring class and pigtailing ain’t rocket science, though kind of an unfair comparison cause it sure isn’t just doodling in a coloring book either, I chose to go up even further into my fear of heights knowing that my husband will be there beside me to catch me in case I fall while also managing to hold up the fixture. After several failed attempts the wiring goes in, then the back gets screwed into the ceiling, and the cover after being an evil and horribly designed pain in the butt gets on so that our kitchen finally has light. Blindingly bright LED light.
My point to this story is that it’s kind of boring. I was thinking about it afterwards, and how I’ve read post and heard from people (usually single) that they think marriage is supposed to be full of passion and excitement, that it should be like those silly romance novels you can’t help but love. But it’s really just one day after the next of mundane activities and exciting stories that sound boring to everyone else, but they’re exciting to me. Because no matter what it is we’re doing, or even when we’re not even in the same state, we’re in it together. What happens to one of us affects both of us and that’s exhilarating. I have someone that I can share the mundane and the exciting with, who wants to be there for me no matter what, and that’s what real love is. Non stop passion would just be exhausting, but interesting tasks to laugh over later how overblown and insane they get, that’s the kind of life I’m enjoying, and I can’t wait to see what the years to come will bring.