In my endless quest to accept DH and the way he ACTUALLY is, not the way I WISH him to be, I have been thinking a lot about the stuff that makes me happy and trying to do those things more often. Plus the fact that he travels Monday through Friday means I have a lot of time to do things on my own. The things that make me happy--walking on the lake trail, opera, theater, dinner out, hot yoga, swimming, reading, the story telling at the Irish pub by our house, bumming around downtown (we live about 20 minutes from Michigan Avenue in Chicago), poking around in a book store, spreading out magazines and newspapers in bed and hanging out there with Netflix on after the kids go to bed. None of those things involve DH. How sad is that. How do you have any relationship with so little in common?