You guys,
Sam painted his office blue and now we’re not speaking.
I’m kidding, but from the moment he decided he wanted a blue wall in his office I felt pressure to help him pick the perfect color because he defers to me on these types of decisions.
He called me into his office and I stared at the wall.
“Wow. That’s really blue.”
This was the exact wrong thing to say.
Months ago, when Sam first mentioned painting his office he said he wanted a grayish-blue. I told him, “If you’re going to paint it blue, paint it blue.”
But over the next few weeks, upon Googling “blue offices” and looking at dozens of paint swatches, I leaned towards the grayer blues while Sam leaned towards the darker, bluer blues.
I liked Denim. He liked Commodore.
When I told him I liked Commodore I meant it, it’s a fine color. It’s just not the color I’d want as my Zoom background. But I kept reminding him, “It’s your office. You should paint it whatever color you like!” And Sam kept reminding me, “But you have a better eye for this stuff!”
He chose Commodore.
How does the color always look so different as soon as it’s actually painted on a wall?? Choosing a paint color that looks exactly as you imagined is a skill. That neither of us have.
We whisper-argued in the bedroom so the painters wouldn’t hear us. Sam imitated me, “If you’re going to paint it blue, paint it blue,” even though I made that comment like 10 years ago dude.
This is exactly where I feared we would end up. I didn’t want to be blamed if he didn’t like the color I had chosen so I didn’t voice how I really felt about the colors. At the same time, I can’t hide when I don’t like something (which Sam pointed out to me in an angry hushed tone), so instead of being excited and supportive about his very blue wall, I had this air of, Well, if you went with the color I picked it would look much better in here.
Sam and I are back on speaking terms. He’s got a blue wall in his office. It’s not my favorite blue but he really likes it. And I think that’s awesome.
WoP Overwhelm
Week one of Write of Passage always coincides with high stress levels in the Bleecker household.
The 5-week course is a feeling of constant adrenaline mixed with exhaustion. Sam dutifully takes the brunt of household chores and dinners, but I still constantly complain.
There’s too much to do! Not enough time!
After one such day when neither of us stopped running until 9pm, we sat on the couch and decompressed. I told Sam reassuringly, “Things will be easier when Write of Passage is over.”
Sam laughed in my face. “No they won’t. You’re always stressed out.”
It’s true. I’m always stressed out. No matter what’s going on in my life, I fill up my to-do list so that it’s impossible to keep up with my own expectations.
I can’t keep moving through my life like this.
Sam and I talked for another 20 minutes and when we finished, he apologized for taking up even more of my time when I was feeling so stressed out about everything I still had to do.
But none of that stuff matters. No matter what I have on my to-do list, the most important thing is that at the end of the day, I have the one person who is there for me through everything.
So until I figure out some kind of better system or something, I have to just zoom out and remind myself of this every day.
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Until next week,
Charlie