Valentine’s Day has always been tough for us. The pressure of Valentine’s Day, with all the hullabaloo and candy-giving, makes us question our already unsteady relationship. How can we ever live up to the romantic images on those Hallmark cards?
Sophia and I got into a fight on the night before Valentine’s Day. I went to find somewhere else to sleep. I felt uncomfortable calling up a friend, so I drove to the nearest Holiday Inn to see if they had any availability. All the rooms were booked except for the “Honeymoon Suite” with a Jacuzzi for $250 dollars. See: Irony. I was too tired to keep on driving, so I went back home and parked my car in the driveway, exactly where I started. I went into the backseat, curled up, and decided to go to sleep, using my sweater as a pillow. I had always heard of people sleeping in their car. Hey, it was almost cool – like I was in a rock band! I was woken up a few hours later by the metallic sounds of a torrential rain storm pounding on the roof of the car. I felt like I was stuck in a car wash that had been taken over by HAL from 2001. It was noisy, the rain and wind shaking the car. I don’t know how I did it, but I fell asleep again.
In the morning, I woke up. Have any of you ever opened your eyes in the morning and realized that you were sleeping in the back seat of your car? If you have, you will understand how I felt. I stumbled out of the car, my legs all stiff and asleep. Standing a few feet away was my next door neighbor, a well-dressed attorney in her business suit, heading for her Lexus. I stuck my head back into the car, moving my hands back and forth, making believe that she just caught me “cleaning out the back seat” of the car.
“Good Morning, Lindsay,” I said.
“Hello, Neil.” she said, sternly.
I’m not sure I fooled her – at all.
I walked over to Starbucks, where I peed and washed my face, like a homeless man, feeling like Starbucks Inc. owed me for all those overpriced lattes. A few hours later, I headed to Beverly Hills for a meeting with a Hollywood producer! The meeting went well. Maybe he mistook the “fire in my eyes” for my bloodshot look from sleeping in the car.
I’ve been in a hotel since then.
Why am I telling you all this? I probably shouldn’t be. I have all these new, wonderful people coming here to read interviews, so it is a bit uncomfortable airing my dirty laundry, but as every blogger knows, a personal blog is about both the good and bad of life. We’ve all been there, and I am inspired by the openness of many of you.
I love Sophia. We have some problems. Some of you have been reading about us for three years now. We both attend therapy, but are finding it difficult to fix things. Maybe living together while “separated” is not the answer.
Who’s at fault here? Well, you would hear very different stories depending on who told the tale, but basically we are both responsible for our own marriage.
Today is Sophia’s birthday. She’s probably upset. I hope I get to see her later, but if I don’t, I hope she does something fun to celebrate her special day. Please wish Sophia a happy birthday. She’s a big part of this blog and I know many of you care about her.
Happy birthday, Sophia.