After years and years of patiently waiting, planning, researching and saving, Trevor finally has his new TV.
He actually bought it ten days ago, but it took awhile to schedule the electrician and coordinate the install. The delay was really my fault because I forced a compromise: if Trevor was going to insist on turning my living room into a man cave, I was going to insist the silly thing be hung on the wall. And while the electrician was here, I also figured he could tend to my list of minor electrical-issue-that-have-slowly-been-driving-me-crazy. Of course, most of the things that drive me crazy are things that Trevor hasn't even noticed, which is the main reason why I haven't dealt with them in the (nearly) two years that we have lived here. After all, it is hard to justify why you want to cut a hole in the ceiling and move the chandelier in the dining room over to the right six inches when your husband has never noticed that said chandelier isn't perfectly centered over the dining room table in the first place. But now, after years of waiting, we both have what we want. Trevor: a giant TV. Me: a TV hung on the wall and a perfectly centered chandelier.
And that, my friends, is just how our marriage works.
New problem: The hole in my ceiling needs to the patched and painted. And if we need to hire a painter to fix it, he might as well do some...painting. Have I mentioned that all the walls in my house are the same neutral yellowy color? Might be time to remedy that.
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