This has been one hell of a week.
Wednesday I seriously considered calling in sick to work... I had forgotten that one of my co-workers is on vacation this week so it wouldn't have worked anyway, but the whole reason I went in there was because I was expecting my cat's ashes back that day. I'd been told a week before that he'd be brought in that day... and he wasn't. I was livid, and I was horrifically sad. I cried for hours. I made it through the day, including the last minute appointment that ensured I stayed until almost nine pm. The appointment included blood, urine, x-rays, fluid administration and fine needle aspirate of multiple lumps. We got all the results in today, conclusive. Lymphoma. He's dieing. He's a great dog. I'm sad.
Yesterday my friend died in my arms. My canine friend. Ten years old, Golden Retriever, cancer. Fuck cancer. His mom and dad stayed until he was sedated so I lay down next to him, wrapped my arms around him, put my head on his and told him how loved he was while he took his final breath. I stayed with him a few moments after and cried. I will miss him so much.
I was also inches away from a terrible collision moments after leaving work. Someone thought making a right hand turn in front of me would be a good idea, luckily I had just enough room, when I swerved to avoid him, I got the car back into the right hand lane and regained control instantly. Although for a split second I was afraid my car was gonna fall onto its side.
Today the window guys came in to get exact measurements so they can order the new windows we're finally getting. I'm looking forward to not having to wipe the condensation off the windows every day this winter. Hopefully we don't have a recurrence of the mold issue we had last winter. That was horrific, but easily dealt with and only surface mold from the moisture collecting in the drapes and running down the wall to the tops of the baseboards behind the bed. So nasty. Anyway... the window guys have informed us that we can't have the windows that I want, not my first choice, not my second choice, in any of the bedrooms. Because? Egress. There's some law, whether it's city, county, state or whatever that says I need a certain square footage when the window is open in order to facilitate egress. In other words: the window needs to be big enough for someone to get out of the house if there's a fire or other event.
So I'm not excited about the windows.
I don't fucking care anymore.
We need new windows, so we will get new windows.
It's like buying new scrubs for work, or school uniforms for the boy.
WoopDeeFuckingDoo.
I'm sad that I'm no longer excited about this thing I've wanted and waited for for a year-and-a-half.
I want my fucking cat.
I did get my new computer on Thursday, it's in a box under my bed.
I also got a raise on Wednesday, so that was pretty awesome.
Today I get the evening to myself after I put the boy to bed because the spousal unit is out. Time to myself is precious during summer vacation - I am grateful for this.
However... my plans of coming home from work tomorrow and spending the evening cleaning my desk and setting up my new computer and speaker system have been completely blown to hell because my mother-in-law wants to take us out to dinner at Sweet Tomatoes.
I wonder what fucking coupon she found.
I don't like her. I don't want to spend any time with her and having to go out to dinner with her sounds like the perfect way to end this horrible fucked up week.
At least I spent less at the grocery store than I anticipated. I buy a ham tomorrow and maybe I'll have enough money leftover to at least do one more fun thing with the boy before he starts school... which reminds me. I'll have to leave notes for my husband about school supplies and uniforms...
Tomorrow is another busy day and I'm not happy about it and I want this week to be over. Over-time aside, I'm sick to death of being at work and I want to take a week off, send my family to Siberia and sit around the house with the cats doing whatever the fuck I want for seven days.
Never happen.
Friday, August 4, 2017
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
hypocrisy hurts my brain
Let us not speak of the things I do all day.
Let us instead speak of the things I do not do.
The spouse is starting to crack down on certain things the boy does that he does not approve of. He seems to have a hard time understanding that the reason the boy sees these things as acceptable is because his father does them. To tell him to go do something "else" and to "put away the screen" when you would rather be playing your phone game is incredibly hypocritical of you. Yes, the spouse acknowledged that but how do I respond? The boy has come to me many times because his desires to get up, to go out, to be active... are thwarted by his father's desire to sit still, do stare at a screen, to be lazy... yet the boy is scolded for being lazy. When I am home with the boy we go out, we do things, we do not spend the entire day staring at screens... yet this is the belief my husband has.
He does not notice what I do all day, unless I don't do it.
If I stop doing things for a week or so he starts to notice that the house is messy, he complains about having no clean socks or underwear, he bitches about the cat hair... he has no idea that bare minimum one hour of my day is spent taking care of these things... the cat hair, the dust, the laundry, the dishes... I know he doesn't think dinner fucking cooks itself but the kitchen is not magical, the floors don't eat the hair and the couch doesn't shake itself off every couple of days like a wet dog.
He wants the boy to ride his bike, but the only one of us with a bike is me... and that requires me to get out every day on my bike... on my days off that's not a problem... but the days I work? The spouse is still sleeping when I leave for work and after my 45 minute commute he's still sleeping... He's asleep when I clock in and by that point I've been up for three hours, have done most of the daily chores, gotten the boy to school/camp and prepped dinner for that evening. After an eight hour shift I have an hour drive home through typically worse traffic than I encountered that morning and once I arrive I'm bombarded with neediness from four cats and two people who all want my opinion, my attention, me. All I want to do is put my shit down and eat my dinner... but that can take forever to get to, especially when my presence sends a subconscious signal to my husband that he can now relinquish the dinner responsibilities and leave me to time the sides and get everything out of the oven when the timer goes off. ALL I WANT TO DO IS SIT DOWN AND TAKE OFF MY SHOES but by the time I've got the side going, my shit finally put away and have had a moment to go to the bathroom it's time to eat... and as previously stated... the kitchen will not clean itself. The solution is not to have the boy clean the kitchen, but to split the duty, to share the load, to not leave it on my shoulders every single night. If I don't do the dishes there's a 90% chance that those dishes will still be in the sink when I wake up in the morning... and if I get mad about it... I'm unreasonable and the bad guy.
So I'll sacrifice a little more of my free time to get the boy out of the house even more... to make sure to do it when the spouse can see, to photograph it when it happens and slather the information all over social media so he's aware that the boy and I did not spend the entire day sitting around the house with our faces in our screens... after all... we wouldn't want to spend our days together the same way he spends his days with his dad. That's not fun at all.
Let us instead speak of the things I do not do.
The spouse is starting to crack down on certain things the boy does that he does not approve of. He seems to have a hard time understanding that the reason the boy sees these things as acceptable is because his father does them. To tell him to go do something "else" and to "put away the screen" when you would rather be playing your phone game is incredibly hypocritical of you. Yes, the spouse acknowledged that but how do I respond? The boy has come to me many times because his desires to get up, to go out, to be active... are thwarted by his father's desire to sit still, do stare at a screen, to be lazy... yet the boy is scolded for being lazy. When I am home with the boy we go out, we do things, we do not spend the entire day staring at screens... yet this is the belief my husband has.
He does not notice what I do all day, unless I don't do it.
If I stop doing things for a week or so he starts to notice that the house is messy, he complains about having no clean socks or underwear, he bitches about the cat hair... he has no idea that bare minimum one hour of my day is spent taking care of these things... the cat hair, the dust, the laundry, the dishes... I know he doesn't think dinner fucking cooks itself but the kitchen is not magical, the floors don't eat the hair and the couch doesn't shake itself off every couple of days like a wet dog.
He wants the boy to ride his bike, but the only one of us with a bike is me... and that requires me to get out every day on my bike... on my days off that's not a problem... but the days I work? The spouse is still sleeping when I leave for work and after my 45 minute commute he's still sleeping... He's asleep when I clock in and by that point I've been up for three hours, have done most of the daily chores, gotten the boy to school/camp and prepped dinner for that evening. After an eight hour shift I have an hour drive home through typically worse traffic than I encountered that morning and once I arrive I'm bombarded with neediness from four cats and two people who all want my opinion, my attention, me. All I want to do is put my shit down and eat my dinner... but that can take forever to get to, especially when my presence sends a subconscious signal to my husband that he can now relinquish the dinner responsibilities and leave me to time the sides and get everything out of the oven when the timer goes off. ALL I WANT TO DO IS SIT DOWN AND TAKE OFF MY SHOES but by the time I've got the side going, my shit finally put away and have had a moment to go to the bathroom it's time to eat... and as previously stated... the kitchen will not clean itself. The solution is not to have the boy clean the kitchen, but to split the duty, to share the load, to not leave it on my shoulders every single night. If I don't do the dishes there's a 90% chance that those dishes will still be in the sink when I wake up in the morning... and if I get mad about it... I'm unreasonable and the bad guy.
So I'll sacrifice a little more of my free time to get the boy out of the house even more... to make sure to do it when the spouse can see, to photograph it when it happens and slather the information all over social media so he's aware that the boy and I did not spend the entire day sitting around the house with our faces in our screens... after all... we wouldn't want to spend our days together the same way he spends his days with his dad. That's not fun at all.
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