Let’s get one thing straight; I love being married.

That does not mean, however, that being married is easy. I’m not even talking about the broad strokes of submissiveness, gentleness, and all other virtues that are inherently difficult to express and live out. Of course, those are hard. Those are a given. I’m just referring to the daily grind of marriage:

The getting up in the morning before the usual time because he’s already getting ready for work.

The repetitive chores. Laundry, dishes, cleaning, cooking — in that order. Sometimes, punctuated by grocery shopping, banking, and other errands.

The immensely difficult task of putting together the correct pair of socks when all of the socks are either brown or black.

The financial burden of maintaining a home.

The coordination of schedules to maximize the use of the car because gas is expensive. Extra points because feelings can get hurt (usually mine, because I’m sensitive that way) when plans get mixed up.

But for every difficulty, there is always something I am thankful for:

That he told me that I don’t have to make him breakfast so I can have an extra hour of sleep.

That I’m doing things that I never did before and learning that I’m actually pretty good in the kitchen.

That I’m more focused on my career and my goals in life because the future that I’m working for is clearer than ever.

That he is a good provider and has never asked me to contribute anything financially, unless I volunteer.

That road trips, even the short ones going to the office, are so much fun with him around. That we like doing the same things and going to the same places. That he is always mindful of my schedule.

I’m still thinking of a bright side to the black/brown socks thing. I guess it’s that my husband is always so appreciative that he doesn’t mind if I just dump it all into one big pile for him to sort out.

image from yahoo.com

Work has been particularly punishing the past couple of days and my health has not been cooperative. I encountered an interesting read on Yahoo the other day, regarding this particular book. It would have been a creative title, had the book been published before Freakonomics. Still, it is an interesting concept — the use of economics in marriage. One of the theories proffered is that couples should not divide chores equally. Instead, one has to do what one is good at: specialization to increase productivity.

In the case of this household, it’s more of I do the chores because I’m here. If no one is here, then the chores won’t get done. There is also the I hate frying so please fix dinner. There are a thousand ways to divide the tasks and we’re still getting the hang of it.

Of course, we can always rely on the invisible hand to wash the dishes. (patum-puh.)

courtesy of my husband

image from myhphone.com

The dark cloud I have been under has been lifted. My husband generously gifted me with a new phone. He knows me too well — its nothing too techie that I would be disinterested in using it. Also, it’s encased in metal for those inevitable moments when clumsy me will drop it.

What an eruption.

Image by news.discovery.com

On the first day of our second month, what do I give my sweet, sweet husband? A glimpse at a nasty, infected zit right smack in the middle of my face.

Sigh. It looks like a volcano — and there’s no hiding it.

I guess that’s one glaring difference between being married and un-married. Couples can still pretend to be ideal. When we were dating, he never saw me with hair tangled up in snarls or with sleep-encrusted eyes. I could pretend that I start each day wearing heels and not my ratty shirts. Morning breath did not exist. Now, everything is so… out there. Without makeup. And with zits.

So the question is: how do I maintain the illusion that I’m so put together all the time?

Part of being a married couple means having to make an effort to like what the other person likes. My husband is completely supportive of my shoe and bag obsession as well as my freelancing, anything-but-regular job. So in return, I cheer:

GO AZKALS!

image from inquirer.net

My husband loves football. I, on the other, am more emotionally invested in Iron Chef and Master Chef.