Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Sad Face

I think I fucked up tonight, LDs.

As in big time.

Lately, my Bitch and Moan Mondays (and hell, some other posts as well) have all been about Mr Realist - laziness being the big one. I'm tired of starting laundry, loading and unloading the dishwasher, cleaning up after I've cooked and even taking the trash out while he plays video games or watches tv/movies on the interwebz. He'd been saying since Saturday that he needed to clean the rat cage (yes, we have two rats - Bonnie and Sally), and it hasn't gotten done.


For the last two days, Mr Realist has been down (he is on Prozac for depression). Yesterday, I had a TPC meeting up north, so I went to that directly after work. I got home about 9.50 last night, and you could tell that the rat cage had yet to be cleaned. There were dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast and his dinner (he had cereal), and he'd done nothing all evening.


Tonight...I stopped by the coffee shop for knitting night, and he stopped in for a coffee (he didn't end up getting one). I was going to be the only one there, so I decided I'd go home with him. He didn't seem too thrilled with that. What else was I going to do? Sit at the shop and knit with just me? So, we came home, and as we were getting changed out of work clothes, I asked what we were going to have for dinner. His response was "I don't know - what do you want?"

I asked him how it was the same as when I am supposed to be making dinner and I ask him the same question just to get the same response, and yet I have to make the decision and make whatever comes to mind. Food was slammed back in cupboards and the refrigerator, and he said that "if you can't give me any suggestions, then I'm just going to eat chips and salsa." I'd had enough at that point. I turned to him, and very calmly said, "I love how your laziness is more important than everything else in this house."

Bullseye as to what's been running around in my head for the past couple of months.

He finshed microwaving the mac-n-cheese leftovers, and took them and his soda into the bedroom to eat in front of his computer. He brought the dishes back to the kitchen, went back into the bedroom, and put on clothes (he wasn't naked, just had on comfy, loungearound stuff). I was so mad I was scrubbing the shower with a toothbrush (no, not his; one we had saved for stuff like this - when we switch out toothbrushes, they're saved for cleaning small cracks and jewelry) on the icky parts. I left the bathroom to go get the bleach, and he's not in the bedroom.

Not in the kitchen, or the living room. I look out the door, and his car's gone.

I finished cleaning up the bathroom (note: bleach and Comet mixed together can leave stains on porcelain tubs), went to the living room, and texted where I knew Mr Realist would have gone.
Asked him if my husband was there, and not to let him do anything rash. Not minutes later, I get a text from Mr Realist, telling me he's going to the movies with Dunn. Then I get one saying that he doesn't know when he's going to be home. I figure he's going to get puke-fucking drunk. I finished cleaning (I finished the bathroom and cleaned the rat cage) (note: tears are not conducive to seeing where you need to clean vs where you have cleaned), and watched a movie.

About 9.20, he came home. We didn't talk until he'd laid down in bed. We talked, and whilst what I said made him very, very angry, it was a valid point. It's why he left; that I was right - he is lazy. We both needed to cool off, and we were very adult about the whole thing. It could have escalated into a screaming fit, but we both just stepped away.

LDs, I'm not going to apologize for saying what I said. Granted, it could have been said better, but I'm tired of trying to say things nicely to him. Nagging just makes me a bitch (and I don't really like doing it).

He did have to explain to the friends that met up with him and Dunn at the movies where I was, and the married couple in the group said that we handled it the right way.

I do love Mr Realist, LDs; with all my heart. However, here's my dilemma: do I continue to ask him to do things with me, to help clean the house he helps dirty?

Or do I accept that I'll never get any of the help I'd like, be a housewife in addition to holding a full-time job? I'd have to quit TPC - I can't work on my marriage, my house, and my business with no help.

Sadly enough, I am documenting when I clean things or empty things or do things that are dual responsibility.

What are your thoughts? Have any of you had the misfortune to be in a similar situation and how did you handle it? You can let me know here, FB me, email, I don't care. I just need some advice (and I know not all of my readers are female, so guys - your thoughts might just mean more than the ladies').

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your torn-between-two-personalities
Mrs Dreamer

PS - I finished typing this up Wednesday morning, so that's why it's being posted now.

Random Thoughts

Morning (or afternoon...whatever), LDs. How's your day been so far?

~I really don't want to be at work. I didn't get home until late last night, and I'm still quite tired. I have to finish my knitted baby blanket to get it to the poor kid (who was born April 22nd). I'm still debating whether or not to put the hoodie on it. I did promise you pictures of it when it's finished, and I haven't forgotten about that.

~Anyone know of someone who needs/wants two dumbo rats? I'm sick of harping on someone to clean their cage once a week, and he promised.

~I'm beginning to think that this TPC was a bad idea.

~Is it sad that I'm excited that Miss Shitass and Mr. Useless have postponed the wedding a year? Maybe by then, she'll realize that he's nothing but a useless drain on her. Now, what to do with the pretty dress hanging in my closet until then? :)

~What would cause a man to prefer being lazy over his wife, when he professes to love her and would do anything for her (include jump in front of a speeding bullet), and yet can't do anything if she's not there at his side?

~Is it normal to feel this bad for so long?

Heepwah, and be safe out there

Your
Mrs Dreamer

Monday, May 10, 2010

Bitch and Moan Monday

Hey out there, LDs! How's it going? I'm bound (with silken cords) and determined to make this a weekly thing. That's right - it's BITCH AND MOAN MONDAY!

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So...today, I'm not going to B&M about Mr Realist (even though I'd really really really like to today...).

You ever get "reprimanded" at work because you done did something stupid (and yes, I do know that isn't proper grammar)?

I'm not talking about reprimanded as in "I'd-like-to-see-you-in-my-office-shut-the-door-now-here's-how-you-fucked-it-all-up" reprimanded. That, I can handle.

It's the "hey-don't-worry-about-it-everyone-fucks-up-every-once-in-a-while-and-at-least-this-wasn't-too-bad-but-they're-still-pissed-off" reprimand.

And in front of coworkers, nonetheless.

Fuckseriously? LDs, I'd much rather be reprimanded in the first way. I can hear (but not listen) to the reprimand and it totally is like water off a duck's back (for those of you who are reading this from college...yeah, I get the joke *grin*) and it's no big deal the moment I walk out of there. I was reprimanded, I got what I did wrong, I'll fix it for the next time.

But the second way makes me feel like I'm about eight years old again and the stepfather has once again told us we're stupid and will never make something of ourselves. That fucking hurts.

Like sawing off your own foot with a rusty bandsaw.

(Yeah, I know I used incorrect grammar, but Mr Realist thinks there's more than one of me - can't be bipolar when there's three or four of you - MPD. To Truddi Chase and the Troops: rest in peace, all of you.)

I just wanted to throw a brick at someone's head earlier today.

Anyone else have that kind of day?
Or are you the happy Monday fuckers? :)

Let me know how your day went, asshats.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your tired, cranky, and losing-her-voice-cause-she-sang-for-an-hour-in-the-car-on-the-way-home-from-a-TPC-meeting-tonight-and-she's-way-out-of-practice
Mrs Dreamer

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

TAG! You're It!


Hello, loverly LDs! How has your day been?

Mine's been an up day (compared to the rest of them lately).

If you haven't check out In Through The Out Door, and my uber-sexy Washington wife Kisha, you should. She effing rules.

Anyway, she tagged me in a Photo Game! It's pretty simple, LDs.

1) Go to your photo files, select the 8th photo folder.
2) Select the 8th photo in that folder.
3) Post that photo along with the story behind it.
4) Then challenge 8 blogging friends to do the same!

The only unfortunate thing is...I really don't like the 8th picture. Boo.

Wait. It's not that I don't like it. It's just that you really can't see what the hell it is.

I was dicking around with the camera ages ago (ok, March of 2009), and I took a picture of a picture hanging on our living room wall.

I didn't take it with a digital. I did it with my 35mm film camera (of course, I had them put the pics on a disc).

It's a three-picture collage of me and Mr Realist in Texas back in 2003 (that part of the date is right, just not the month and day) when we were with his grandparents on vacation (they're cool as shit, so it was all good).

Top left picture is Mr Realist and I on opposite sides of the United States/Mexico line (I'm in Me-he-co!).

Bottom left picture is Mr Realist and I next to the South Padre, Texas sign (and we were down there when all of Texas was out on Spring. Fucking. Break. O dear Lord, were there some fi-hi-hine college boys down there! Of course, you can't see for the glare. O well.

Right picture is Mr Realist and I under a beauty of a palm tree. I want a palm tree in my back yard.

But I live in Illinois. Damn.

Anyway, my eight bloggy friends that I'm tagging?

1. Missus Gamgee at The Hobbit Hole
2. Em Static at Heart and Hairspray
3. Fertility Chick at Fertility Chick (she's awesome, even though I'm not a mommy)
4. Avitable at Tact Is For Pussies (he fucking rules, even though he's more vulgar than I am...)
5. AH at AHStudios
6. JES at The Seeker
7. Boomka at Boehmcke's Human Condition (funny AND hot)
8. Mrs. Flinger at Mrs. Flinger: The Blog

AND WTF...I don't think the links are not working. Damn. Sorry LDs.

Enjoy looking at pics, and I'll try to figure out WTF is wrong with the links. If you can clicky, let me know

Heepwah, and be safe out there

Your
Mrs Dreamer



Monday, May 3, 2010

Bitch and Moan Monday...a bit late...

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What's up, everyone? Sorry I didn't post this last night. I didn't do anything on the computer yesterday evening.

Mr Realist and I kind of got into it because of his laziness. Don't talk to me at one in the afternoon and tell me that 'you can make the hamburgers before you go to therapy at six.'

'Scuse me? So I get home at 5.15 or therabouts, change clothes into crappy ones to do knee therapy in, mix up the hamburger (which I forgot the crumbies, so they fell apart), make sure they're done, clean myself up (since I now have hamburger goo all over myself), and make it there by six?

Not a fucking chance.

I was late, and didn't get out of there until almost eight last night. I was so pissed off I wrote him a note before I left.
1. Don't ever ask me to make hamburgers again. I'm not good at it...AT. ALL.
2. You had plenty of time from getting home at 6.45 to make dinner because I normally don't get home from rehab until about 7.30. Why was it so important that I make dinner?
3. You've said so yourself - "I need to start cooking more." Fuckreally? Fancy that.
4. This you not eating until I get home and make dinner for your sorry ass is about do drive me around the bend. I'll make my own dinner - you can fend for yourself.

Yes, LDs, it's another "Bitch and Moan about Mr Realist Monday" and I'm sorry.

He's just the cause of my irritation 94.6% of the time (since we don't have kids).

I'm not trying to make a pearl here, LDs.

I just want some help. We both have full-time jobs. If I were a housewife, I would have no problems about doing all of it myself: cooking, cleaning, etc. But I'm not.

And I damn sure am NOT his maid.

What's got you bitchy today?
Hate making dinner?
Want to hit your SO with a waffle iron?
Or is your life peaches and cream today? (fuckers.)

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Your annoyed
Mrs Dreamer
Be safe out there.