It sounds like a miscommunication, Gud. You're good, in more ways than one.

Coming home in time for dinner is not my DH's strong suit. He often has late afternoon/early evening meetings and I sometimes lose track of them. So now I text him an ETA for dinner and if he's not there, he gets leftovers. Ironically if I ASK him to pick up take out on the way home, he can do that no problem. But it takes forethought on my part, remembering which days he'll be home in time for dinner.

Gud, what they said. I haven't chimed in personally because the comments here are much more helpful than what I'd say.

My brain isn't typical, and while H knows it, he doesn't get it. So when I ask a question and he begins a lecture on the etymological history of a facet of what I just asked, I want to punch him. Just.Answer.My.Question. Yes, no, up, down, right, left, right assumption, wrong conclusion. Simple, declarative, full stop.

I had a laptop crisis yesterday and he's asking me what I did two weeks ago and how long it's been doing this and did I try this--"and how do I find that command?" Go here, and there, and then do this. "Wait! Go here, right?" Yes, and then and then and the other thing.

So, it takes a blowup sometimes, and tears, and a stolid stare while he gets his tangents out, and realizes he's speaking Urdu. And then we solve it.

Communication skills vary, and a lot of times they're just not compatible without a *lot* of mutual effort.

I just want to hug everybody in this thread. I've missed you, prodigals! Welcome! And hugs for the diehards, too, just 'cause.

I am standing in Steph's corner shaking my head.

I had a laptop crisis yesterday

Hey, we're twins! In the worst possible way! When my laptop went kablooey last night (while I was working), Tim was helpful, but not as helpful as I needed (though admittedly, I am long past the end of my rope in how much emotional support I need in a crisis; a year ago, I wouldn't have needed as much support as I did last night). He filled me full of Ativan and suggested an alternative that I didn't think about (the dreaded Windows laptop we have in a closet for the ADD group). But I needed him to just TELL me everything was going to be okay. Confidently. That's not really his M.O., and I know that, but when I lose my goddamn mind (which is happening with depressing regularity), I need him to just forcefully tell me everything will be fine, because, oh, I am POSITIVE it's the end of the world and I don't listen to reason.

It's super hard keeping the wolves from the door these days, you guys.

But yeah. Communication, DAMN. (It's gotten a lot better -- thanks, television -- now that I can just say "I am Abed, okay? Tell it to me like you would to Abed." And that totally works. Because sometimes he uses metaphor and I just need concrete language.)

any of us can read any number of multi-sentence emails like a boss

I want to put this on my resume. And my next self-eval.

((Gud)) I have more thoughts but we are losing internet in a minute.

I was all keyed up to get some work done, but my coworker blew me off.

Dana: I hate it when that happens. Congratulations on surviving the encounters with the movers, and may the rest of the day be better.

My brain isn't typical, and while H knows it, he doesn't get it. So when I ask a question and he begins a lecture on the etymological history of a facet of what I just asked, I want to punch him. Just.Answer.My.Question.

No offense, but that sounds pretty typical to me.

In the context of everything else you have told us, Gud, this is part of a very disturbing pattern. You are way too hard on yourself and it sounds like you are not the only one. I hope y'all can straighten things out.

How's your daughter doing, Gud?