I've been thinking about marriage a lot lately. My 25th wedding anniversary is coming up and I keep waiting to get some sort of a performance-review notice in my email. Not that I know what I'd say for either the self- or the spouse evaluation part — maybe I'd just upload Elaine Stritch singing "I'm Still Here." (It's dated, but it covers a lot of bases.)
As with many marriages, the pandemic has been a test. My husband and I have spent more contiguous workday hours together in the last two years than we did in the previous 23, and you know what they say about familiarity (spoiler: it's not good).
But then there have been so many tests: age and children, time and life, not to mention the fact that the man cannot learn how to mute and unmute his cellphone or remember that I hate olives. Some of these tests we have passed easily, others only on a generous curve. Many required us to review the chapter again and retake. Multiple times.
