well my day was going not so bad. i went for a six mile walk today to work off some stress (got sunburned in the process but oh well lol) and i get home and get to sit. not bad, right? well since then ive hhad to clean up everything. still lhave dishes to do, which are going to be started as soon as im done typing this out, and ive got a couple more loads of laundry to do. but you think i can get any help? nope. not even for the tiny little bit of dishes that are in teh sink. i have been doing laundry all effing day, and then i got to clean up two piles of dog vomit, one of which was all over our bedsheets and carpet. I cleaned it up. just me. i dont mind cleaning but i would like some help ya know. especially when it is on my one weekend off a month. this is my weekend off and what do i get to do? i get to spend the whole fucking thing cleaning by myself while his majesty sits on the fucking living room floor playing cod on x box liive with his little butt buddies. and then we go to pick up his scripts from when he had bronchitis. 68 dollars for two. guess who got to pay for it cuz someone else doesnt have a job. ding ding ding, yours truly. as usual. we get home and he goes back to playing that fucking game. an hour later, he gets off his ass and goes into the kitchen where he set it down, picks it up, and tosses it to me, hitting me and knocking me on the knuckles. it kinda hurt so i picked it up n threw it back. well he threw it to me once more and hit me in the thigh with the corner of the little box. idk if y'all have ever been hit with a box but no matter what size it is the corners of those little bastards actually do hurt. so i threw it back to him and told him he hurt me. he threw it at me one more time and told me if i threw it back he would throw it away. i just paid $60 for this damn thing, aint nothin goin in the trash until the sucker is empty. and then i told him if he didnt want me to throw it back dont throw it at me again. well he started gettin all pissy with me n shit n throwin n slammin stuff on counters and now he aint even talking to me or lookin at me. so whatever. he wants to act as mature as a six year old he can do it all he wwants. i just hope he realizes that with everything else going on for me right now that if people push me much farther im gonna snap on everyone. yeah, he might have to worry about not having a job, but i gotta worry about supporting him on my meager pay, ive got to worry about trying to be peacekeeper between him and everyone else (for some reason he hates everyone and everything they do), and ive gotta worry about everything going on with my family now too. its getting to be too much. one of my previous entries desecribes the whole family situation pretty well actually. put it all inito a huge bown and turn on the blender and you got a pretty potent combination of stressors that are acting like a pressure bomb. the more pressure is applies, the closer you get to an explosion. there ain't no diamond under this rough, honey. just a lotta fire. |
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