Pam and ChuckCurrent mood: content
Category: Romance and Relationships

Anger is not good for your health!  Now, I’m not one to be prone to road rage.  Neither is Chuck, my husband.  In fact, he is such a subdued driver that when we took a course to learn sign language, he gave his reason for attending the class was so that he could interpret all the signs people give him on his way to work in the mornings.

Neither of us is prone to rage, but occasionally I am known to lose my patience.  Imagine that!  I’m not impatient, but I can be a little intolerant from time to time, particularly when it comes to clutter.  A little hot head can emerge from this blonde mop.

Chuck is the proverbial packrat.  Drives me nuts!  We can never have a garage sale, because he says he doesn’t have anything to sell.   If closet doors were flexible, ours would be bulging, that’s for sure.

Something Chuck is really good at is building shelves…shelves to hold more stuff that we can’t get rid of, because we might need it some day.  I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why we need 56 axes, 30 wooden ball bats, or every issue of about fifteen magazines.  And, all the experts say that if you haven’t worn or used it in two years, to get rid of it and replace it.  But nooooo!  We have to keep it all and ADD to it.  I’m telling you that all of this STUFF is getting the better of me!

I feel very blessed that my business is growing and growth means changes.  When I first started the business in 2000, I had a work table in the garage.  Now, the entire garage is my workshop.  You guys out there don’t go feeling sorry for Chuck, because he has a 24′ x 24′ workshop of his own, with a full attic.  The problem is that his building isn’t big enough to hold all of his STUFF.  It has overflowed into the shop.  I need the space for inventory and work space for my workers, so therein lies the reason for my recent explosion.

I asked Chuck to please put two large cardboard boxes in the attic.  One contained all of my framed fitness certifications.  The other contained some of his precious treasures.  His solution was to stack the boxes in our bedroom or on the deck.  Yes, I said the deck!  Why not throw a couple of sofas and a washing machine out there with them, I thought.

This solution wasn’t working for me.  We had a standoff.  “I’m taking these to the bedroom”, he said.  “Over my dead body!  That box sat in the floor for six months and you never did anything with it.  That’s why it ended up in the garage.  I’ll take them to the attic myself.” I retorted.  “Then I’ll just bring them back in.”, was his reply.  “Then I’ll just take them back out there.” I whipped back.  I grabbed my box out of his hands and left him with his.  “Why is it that I’m the only one who has to get rid of things around here?” was his question.  “Are you kidding me?  I get rid of things all the time.” I said as I stormed past him to the garbage can outside the door.  As I dumped my box into the trash can I steamed, “I’m not afraid to get rid of a dang thing!”  The sound of gazillion pieces of glass shattering sent a chill down my spine.  “Cute!” he said as he went into the house with his box of precious junk.

I continued with my cleaning project, carefully placing other boxes outside the house to be taken to the attic.  Later, I went into the house and caught sight of his box.  It was peeking out from under my dresser!


I seethed over this for a couple of hours, and then I started to think about it.  I am really very lucky to be married to Chuck.  He is an amazing man with many great qualities and abilities.  He can’t help it if he is a man!  I’m not perfect either, and he says that I do things that bother him too, though he can never come up with what they are.  I can learn to live with the box under the dresser until he can build some more shelves.  After all, I’ve learned to live with the animals hanging on the foyer wall, across from my flowers and piano.


The bottom line here is that our rage isn’t going to solve the problem.  Prayer might help, though.

When I was angry, I became aware of how it made me feel physically.  My heart rate was up and I felt shaky.  This can’t be good, I told myself.   Of course, tripping over boxes in my workspace isn’t so great either.  I let my anger out, but too many people store it up inside.  It eventually comes out in a huge explosion of emotion or it stays inside and causes mental, emotional, and physical issues.  I don’t condone running around your house screaming all the time, but I think it is okay to vent on occasion.  It should never turn into saying hurtful things, however.  That causes irreparable damage.

We probably aren’t through fussing over the clutter, but I can predict the outcome, and I know it will require compromise.


I have heard it said that “A moment spent in anger is a moment of happiness lost.”  Sometimes it’s worth it if it gets rid of some unwanted and unused junk, just as long as it doesn’t get to be a habit…the anger that is.  I have resolved to “Work out and work it out.”

Be happy!

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