Sunday, October 19, 2014

#4 Decorating Vs. National Security - Which is more dangerous?

Oh my gosh! Robert and I went to the hardware store today to buy a few things for our remodeled powder room. You would think we were in some reality show decorating contest for as long as it took. I say get what you like, looks good and fits your style. He over analyzes each screw, bolt, beveled verses flat item on the list. Of course, if he can get it cheaper at the Habitat Store for pennies (no matter if it's dented or dinged) then that makes much more sense. He does make sure I'm okay with the choice. Most of the time I am. After the marathon selection process we headed home.

I couldn't help but wonder if Chase would even care what kind of mirror I chose. Would he shrug with a slow irritation that I even ask his opinion? The man has a black and white apartment that looks like it arrived in a box from some online store. No pictures or mementos sitting around. Just a violin propped in the corner he claims to know how to play and some old books that smells like the inside of a musty flea market. Unlike Robert, he believes life is a series of rooms all done in black and white. I've thought about sneaking in someday and stencil the words, "Keep it simple, stupid" over the fireplace.

Back to Robert. He's a good man. Not very romantic, but definitely a good guy. At least once a week one of my girlfriends tells me how lucky I am to have him. I smile and nod. They've never been to a big box store with him to buy paint. Our idea of chic or urban country style differs enough that ends in the silent treatment on the ride home. Then I just go buy what I want. The last time I painted he never acknowledged the change until someone showed interest. Believe it or not he said: "I told Tessa to just get whatever she thought best. I trust her completely."

Probably wouldn't say that if he knew I live a secret life working with a nondescript government agency. Does that sound like someone you can trust? Wonder what he'd think knowing I decided to work for Enigma because I have this over powering need to be thrilled. Paint colors, new bathroom fixtures and salvaged do-dads from the resale store doesn't do it for me. Knowing I make a difference in the lives of those who protect this country from monsters of terror keeps my heart beating at a rate that can't be considered healthy. I say it's the work. Sometimes I think it's something else.




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