Poo! I'm tired and cranky and I just don't care anymore. We had our first spat today since starting our "saving the marriage" journey. There's so much going on and I'm so stressed I just don't think I really care anymore. Not to mention it's 2am and I have to be up in 3 hours. Anyway, he's mad about the hours I'm working. Ok. So am I. I hate this job. I wish I could get another one. But the fact of the matter is...I can't! It's moving week and I still have half a house to pack and that apparently I'm the only one who knows how to pack a stinking house! I have 35 hours at this stupid job that I have to drive an hour to get to. The dishwasher is broken so they're all being done by hand. I'm constantly picking up after a two year old and answering mommy every 5 seconds. And don't even get me started on laundry! Heaven forbid I don't button the top most button on his shirt. Ugh.
Where do I even start?! Job. OK. Working 35 hours. We need the money. He asks what to make for dinner. I have chicken and bbq sauce in the fridge. Put it together. I come home at midnight to find chicken nuggets on my counter.....seriously? I told him that my boss didn't listen so now I have to find someone to cover the morning shifts that I can't work. He bitches about that and then tells me to quit....when we need the money. I started looking for daycares and their prices to see if maybe we could afford one. He bitches about that because I don't want to be a SAHM and apparently I didn't inform him soon enough. Well I did tell him...WEEKS AGO! What else...what else...OH! He has threatened to kick me out if I work another morning shift. That was a nice surprise text message. I will admit that I probably did start it. He asked (in a text message) a series of questions which I answered in order. Then he proceeds to ask them again! One by one. So I snapped. And told him he was ignorant and couldn't read. So he LOLs me and calls me a bitch. Whatever. Normal conversation. Then he goes off about the dishes. "You didn't wash the dishes! How fucking hard is it to wash some dishes. You can do them when you get home." OK. No biggie. (I've gotten pretty good at listening to his shit and letting it roll off my back ) So I get home. The door is locked but he's still up. That was the final straw. I thought about it on the car ride home and I was OK with being nice when I got home and then he locked the door. So I did it. I walked in and gave him a "are you fucking serious...go to hell" look and started my dishes. To which he then walks into the kitchen to say "Why are you doing them now?" To which I cocked my head to one side and said "read your phone." "Are you going to act like this all night?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because you locked the door!" And to my surprise, he walked away and didn't say another word to me. He just went to bed. So I almost finished my dishes (one pan and a few forks and spoons left), I have applied for two jobs, and now I write!
Sometimes I wonder if I was really meant to have kids. Don't get me wrong, I love mine to death but sometimes I wonder if I wasn't just in love with the thought of kids....or the idea of them. Now that I have them, I look around and I will admit to this: I don't want to do the work. Sometimes I would rather just work my fingers to the bone and have my money to do with what I please. And I know some of you are going to read this and be like OMG I can't believe she said that and I don't give a rat's ass. Go ahead and say it! But even my mom has said there were days where she just wanted to go back in time and not have us.
I think I'm just going to nap on the couch. In my clothes. Why bother showering or changing for something I have to do later today for 12 hours anyway? Besides, I don't want to sleep next to him. |