Go figure…

Mrs S just blew up. A full on fit of anger. The full fireworks display. She literally shouted at me. I’m half way surprised she didn’t tell to pack my bags on the spot the way she behaved.

So what did I do? Had I been having sex outside of our marriage? Had I cheated on her? Messed with the kids or performed some other morally reprehensible act in public just to shame her? No. Spent all our hard earned retirement savings on some wild and highly risky speculation? Did I quit my job and demand that she paid all the bills or emptied our joint bank account? No. She’s worried about losing her job I know but she does want to quit because of all the touchy feely Left coast bullshit. So we’re getting out this year. At least that was the plan.

So what did I actually do? What occasioned the fire-tongued tirade she subjected me to?

What I did was pay a five figure sum from my personal cash reserve into our joint investment account. That’s right. I added to our joint holdings by buying some blue chip shares at close to the bottom of the market. An act that promises to more than double the money I put in within two months. An investment that will go some way to help recoup our recent losses in the short to medium term, and make us quite a handsome return over the next year. An act that will boost our joint, not my own, but our mutual retirement fund by nearly six figures if my highly conservative estimates are correct.

We’d briefly discussed the matter in December with our broker and I’d stated my intent to invest some of my personal cash reserve back then. It was mine and I still have twice as much again in reserve. The money is not lost. It’s invested in dividend paying stocks whilst the market is depressed.

All right, I didn’t ask her express permission, but I didn’t think I needed it. I thought it a measure that would benefit us both. A pleasant financial reassurance in this time of trouble.

We’re still well in funds. Down a fair bit, but nothing we won’t get back over the next year. No-one has died. The rent is paid and the larder full. As far as I know our booked flights to Ireland and accommodation haven’t been cancelled. So long as we don’t panic we’ll be diamond.

Yet I got yelled at. For doing what I said I’d do. So I objected. I said I’d made my intentions clear, but she said I hadn’t and added some hurtful accusations. Voices were raised. I walked away. Went and did some chores. Took the car out for half an hours drive to rant at the blankness of the steering wheel and try to find the right words to cool things down. Came back to a silent house to find she’d locked herself in the bedroom. So I’m leaving her to think about what she said while I wonder whether we’d be better off apart.

I feel like I just handed her a large bouquet of roses and she responded by raking the thorns across my face…

I know there’s a lot of fear out there but that was uncalled for. Part of me knows one of us needs to offer an olive branch, but given her current mood, I don’t know how.

Go figure.

2 thoughts on “Go figure…”

  1. Predicting female reactions is never easy, as they (the reactions, not the women) are a mix of logic and emotion. My (dear departed) wife was similarly hard to fathom, reacting badly sometimes to what I considered an insignificant point, but then totally OK with major decisions which I expected to be a tough negotiation. Good luck!

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