Day 21

Here we are, 3 weeks into self isolation and doing pretty well, I'd say.  At least, I am.  Not so sure about my husband.

We each have found our sweet spots that allow us to get through the days.

Anthony was into DIY projects for the first two weeks and so many things got  done around here, you'd think the house was going on the market.

I tried crocheting, but that wasn't my thing.  I tried barbering; that didn't work either.

I tried being the one who dealt with the phone complaints when things weren't done correctly  or people didn't show up, but Anthony said I was too nice.  So, I told him he could take over the thankless job.  And he did

Where I was too nice; he was anything but.

He yelled, he threatened, said some rather harsh things. He was encountering his own set of problems. He'd come to me complaining about the phone connections because in the middle of a heated exchange when he was being transferred to another agent, more often than not, he'd lose the connection. It was becoming a pattern.

Poor thing didn't realize these were not simply  dropped calls; these people were hanging up on him.  I knew what was happening; he didn't.

So, I told him what was being done to him.  He was not happy.

Today I overhead him arguing with an agent for a company that has 4 times sent the wrong part for a sanding machine he has in the garage.

This time, it was different.  He was eerily calm, almost pathologically calm, and smiling as he explained their error and that he'd be forced to return the wrong part, again.

I'm not sure what this means.  But if you see me starting a Go Fund Me account, it could mean I need bail money.  Be kind; be generous.