6:06 p.m., Sunday the 6th
Last night, SB had to work an extra day from home. The credit union is doing a huge hardware and software upgrade, so SB had to pull an all-nighter.
Rewind back a couple of days, I was scrounging around for something to drink, and found a few energy drinks in the fridges (both the regular fridge and the little fridge), so I had a couple of those. I did not connect the dots, and my Spidey-sense did not go off. So yesterday, I had a third can of those.
A few hours later, SB confronted me. "Did you drink the energy drinks in the fridge?"
Now my Spidey-sense started tingling. "Uh ... yeah I had a few ..."
SB sounded very disappointed, disappointed in me, in the situation, or in both. "Those were mine. I was going to drink those tonight so I could stay awake for work."
"Oh," I said. "Uh ... sorry."
She had nothing more to say about that. She just turned and walked away.
As the weight of the situation started to settle on me, I quickly started to feel torn between intense anger, and a wild guilt trip. I couldn't understand why she didn't tell me that before, in retrospect I think maybe it just slipped her mind at the time, but right then, after she walked out on me, I felt like she had prepared a big old pit trap for me, and I had stepped right into it. I could have said, "Why didn't you tell me?" but I think she would have replied, something like, "I shouldn't have to," or, "You could have asked," or one of my favorites, "I did tell you." Thus, remembering a different reality than what I remembered, making me feel gaslighted, and like it was now my word against hers. Best not even go there.
As far as I know, she got through the night well enough, and by now the whole fiasco no longer bothers her, nor even crosses her mind. And I am not inclined to raise the subject. But I'm not completely recovered.
By the way, I didn't brush last night.