Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label husbands. Show all posts

Friday Bitch, 1st one of 2011

Posted by Dayle Winnifred | Comments (0)

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I am very seriously sick and tired of teens and their drama. Just because I don't want to drive 45 minutes, one way, to pick up your girlfriend or boyfriend, and then drive 45 minutes another direction to take you to a movie, THEN do it all over again when the movie is over, does not make me a bad person. It means I don't want to pay three god damned dollars a gallon and drive nearly three damn hours round trip for a movie. I am not the only parent with a car. Let the other parents drive their own kids to the movie. I'm more than willing to schlep the kids to the movie - but I am not a taxi for other parents that are (and I quote) unable to afford gas to drive that distance themselves. If you ask me, they just don't want to drive the distance anymore than I do.





Oh lucky me! Just in time for Friday bitch my husband decided to provide some excellent fodder. We have been together for over 15 years. Why the fuck is it that he can't manage to use the fucking phone and call my dad himself when he has a fucking question? Seriously!??!!? Look, I'm not that curious - I don't CARE - therefore, I am not going to start ringing people up like I'm his goddamned secretary!!!! You have a question - fucking call and ask! Don't sit there getting pissed off at me because I don't leap up at your every curiosity and spring into action simply because it's my father you want to ask a question! Especially when my dad has NO PROBLEM AT ALL calling my husband when he has question but somehow it's my dad so it's my job to ask? I'm not your fucking middle person!!!!

And, yes, I might be PMS'ing as well which would explain the over zealous use of "fucking" and "!!!!!" either way that sort of just supports my original bitch - if you have a fucking question ask it yourself! Otherwise - get off my fucking back and leave me the fuck alone!!!!


Sullen teenagers. For the love of all that is good and holy, it will be a minor miracle if I don’t run screaming from this house before next Thursday. Next Thursday is when YoungestStepson(14) has a Social Studies project due. He has known about it since Nofuckingvember. When did he start working on it? About 10 days ago. What has his “work” consisted of? Looking up shit at google.com and bing.com and printing photos. I told Husband that I wasn’t going to help with this project because IT’S NOT MY JOB! But I couldn’t stand it and asked him last night what books he’s read and discovered that the answer was none. So I hauled him to the library while he bitched the whole damned way about how he hated the library. Tell you what kid, just suck the dick of life and deal, okay? I know it was so hard for you to go to the library and watch me use the computer to find a book for you and check it out.

I’m fairly certain that he doesn’t understand exactly how his project is supposed to be presented and when I tried to explain it to him I got attitude. So, fuck it. One D grade in the 8th grade won’t ruin his record.

Husband is pissy that I’m being unhelpful. I explained that even if YS has slithered from my loins that I would be treating him the same. If you need help and are working on something and not being an asshole when I try to help you - then I will help you. Otherwise, you’re on your own.

I’m actually signing up to work overtime on Wednesday just so I won’t be home for all the last minute shit as he throws the project together.




I am so sick of someone trying to make me feel bad because I don't want to spend another four hours being "helpfully" insulted and made to feel like an outsider in your life while sitting on your sofa, when I'd much rather be at home. I have things to do at my own house, and a pet that needs to be taken care of after being alone for almost ten hours.

I am barely resisting the urge to scream at someone who fully expects me to drop everything because they suddenly decided they wanted to visit.

Friday Bitch #10

Posted by Dayle Winnifred | Comments (0)

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This week I want to grab my husband by his ears and yell in his face. "Seriously? Does everything in this household have to revolve around you and your dick? How about a little fucking sympathy for someone not feeling good. A headache, and a bad tooth are not all about your penis! A little honey-can-I-get-you-something is so much better than rolling your eyes and muttering guess-tonight-is-a-no" I'm sick of it.





My ex-husband (it was finalized this week baby! If I had the money, I'd get drunk in my honor) just can't let shit go. He and his new "baby" are cyberskulking (it's not stalking, as they're not out and out trying to get into my accounts, but I know they're lurking around the corners, just like menstrual cramps and sneaky farts)


She is worse than him. Every time I post to Twitter or FaceBook or Google Buzz, she's dissecting what I said to make it pertain to her.

I want to splash all over the 'web, "Dear Crotch of Doom, I do not give a damn that you are dating my ex husband! I left him first, you can have him! Enjoy him! I hope he pees on you!" Okay, that last bit is a little much, but it's totally true. I also hope they drive one another to drink and their livers give out in rapid and painful ways.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I'm going to do the Dance of Joy and toast their misfortune.



Gah. Why do I have to NAG constantly to get people to do a little cleaning? Why do they need a list in front of them every thanking day as a reminder? Vacuuming happens. LOADING YOUR DISHES INTO THE DISHWASHER happens.

DUST happens. Yesterday, I noticed that someone had drawn in the dust around the remote control. Nice. I know it’s dusty but why do you feel the need to point it out? Couldn’t you have swiped the whole tabletop with your paw after you were done doodling?

I like how everyone can watch movies on demand and television shows for hours on the Netflix account that I so lovingly pointed them towards and can’t find the gumption to run the vacuum or feather duster.

Husband is going to be gone this weekend and I have to work. But I plan on making getting the house “company clean” in my spare time and designing and laminating a permanent chore chart for everyone.

Okay, after reading this I feel like I should point one nice thing out - the boys came home from school yesterday and decorated the house for Christmas. Put up and decorated the tree and set up all of the little holiday themed things.

And Husband just called and invited me to lunch and was in a nice mood. Cool beans. Though a the black-hearted part of me thinks he's being nice so I don't do anything too fun while he's gone. Good grief, I was born a sneaky bitch.


 
I guess husbands (ex or current) are on the shit list this week, hmm, ladies? I'm right there with you. I'm tired of being the one to resolve the issues. I'm tired of being the first one to step up and try to smooth over a rough patch. I'm not doing it anymore. He acted like a complete dick last night pissed everyone off and this morning is acting like nothing happened. Yeah, he kissed me before he went to work - but that's hardly an "I'm sorry about last night." which would have been better than nothing at all.

Friday Bitch, 7.0

Posted by Celeste | Comments (0)

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I’m ready for the holidays to be over and they haven’t even started yet. The waste of space exwife is really getting under my skin and I’m trying to not let it bother me. But it bugs me that she doesn’t do anything extracurricular with the boys if it’s of the slightest inconvenience to her but she must have them on holidays so she can show off her brood of seven.

Up until last year, she had them on Thanksgiving and they came to our house the night of Christmas Eve and stayed through Christmas. She basically said last year that since we didn’t have any siblings for the boys and she did - that they should be at her house on Christmas. Husband said, “whatever” and hung up on her. I blew a fuse. I waited until Christmas Eve night to point out that this was the first Christmas Eve of the boys’ lives that he hadn’t read “Twas the Night Before Christmas” to them and made him cry. I told him he would regret just going along with that her plan. I made him promise that he’d talk to her before the holidays this year to see if we could have them on Thanksgiving and Christmas and we could just start swapping out years.
He did not do this. So, we’re doing our Thanksgiving next Wednesday and she’s getting them by noon on Christmas so she can tote them to her husband’s family house for dinner.

I’m pissed off that Husband doesn’t want to rock the boat with this gutter slut. He said that he only has 4 more years to deal with her and wants to just deal with her as little as possible. I understand what he’s saying but it still irks me. My holiday spirit is out the door. I actually volunteered to work Thanksgiving so a friend of mine could have the day off. I knew that if I sat at home on that day that I’d just glare at Husband. At least I’ll get paid double-time and a half that day!




I have no idea what I'm doing for Thanksgiving next week. None. My father and his wife have gone from being "parents" to this strained politeness between all of us... and that blame will fall squarely on my shoulders.


Because I finally laid down the law about things I will not discuss with him, since they always lead to arguments. These things are:

-My mother (his ex-wife, whom he hasn't seen in over twenty years and who would be thrilled to pieces if he suddenly fell off the planet)

-My politics (because I've got a very open mind-set, and his mind is very narrow about some things)
-My view on animals rights (because I believe they were here first, therefore we should respect them)

-My earth-friendly lifestyle (he thinks the bigger your eco-footprint, the happier you will be)

-My sex life

-My teenage years (of which he was no part)

-The 'research' he is doing on me. (Because everyone runs an investigation on their offspring instead of talking to them.)


Is it wrong me of think that there are some things parents do not need to know about their children? And vice versa? I don't need to know the exact number of women he fucked while married to my mother, and I highly doubt any man wants to know the exact nature of their daughter's sexual proclivities, no matter how old she might be.

I found out the hard way that he, and my skin-sack of an ex-husband, are cut from the same cloth. My father just disguised it better until it was too late for me to change my mind.


I've started an advent calender, but it's got nothing to do with the birth of a bouncing Baby Jesus- it's a countdown to the day I can go back to the family that was around for all the hard shit and is still standing there to pick me up when I fall.


I have plenty to bitch about this week. I broke a tooth last Friday night. It still is not fixed, and I am high on pain meds, have a zillion antibiotics running through my blood stream, and since the doctor didn't listen to me, the pain meds prescribed make me jumpy as hell. I cannot sleep if I take Loritab. I told her that and that is what she called in to the pharmacy anyway. So my choices are enjoy a raw exposed nerve ending in my mouth, or be more wired than a cocaine addict on a 3 day binge. (the office nurse told me if I don't want the Loritab to just take some Motrin instead. Yeah, that will dull the nerve!)

Don't get me wrong - it would be great to have all this energy and to be able to funnel it into something constructive and useful. But instead I'm scattered, and unable to form a coherent thought for more than a few minutes. Yesterday I started to try and form a post, and stopped about 20 times. The ideas are there in my head, but making them come out of my fingers just wasn't happening. But I figured I had time, because I post on Thursday. I got up this morning and realize that somewhere in this pain filled week I lost and entire damn day! 



My three counterparts here have bitches that go far beyond anything I have to bitch about today. In fact, the first bitch that comes to mind is that I'm not in closer proximity to get rid of a waste of skin ex-wife, pass along some top notch pain pills, and rid a certain town in butt-fucked nowhere of a certain male inhabitant who wouldn't know a good father if it landed on his face and started to flop around like a cat with epilepsy.

My biggest bitch in my corner of the universe (other than the fact that my husband's work phone just started ringing on the 3rd vacation day he's taken all year... %^&*%$^!!!) is that I saw myself in a few pictures from Disneyland yesterday and I'm horrified at how fat I've gotten. Maybe the apple doesn't fall as far from the tree as I had originally thought. My mother is the vainest of vain... and I'm certainly not as bad as she is (no way I would remain conscious for a plastic surgeon to rip the fat pads out of my eye sockets, thank you!) but, I guess I'm more vain than I realized.

This morning I'm partially beating myself up and attempting to come up with some sort of diet compromise that doesn't make me feel like I'm punishing myself 24/7. I know I can't stand looking like this and eventually it's going to make me stop having sex with my husband and God knows, that will end up with one of committing murder.
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