He is still out of town and not due back for at least another two hours. My youngest is working on homework and I thought, fuck it........ might as well write some more about myself. Seeing how I am so damn fascinating....... I really do need a sarcasm font for my blog.
I am in the second week of my new job. Its not bad. I am very glad its so much closer than my previous job. I do not like being a secretary........... a secretary with 18 years experience and a bachelors degree or the fact that I took at 10k pay cut............but my plant was closing so a shit paying job is better than unemployment. I had interviewed for another job but they were dragging their feet in making a decision. It paid much better and was a perfect fit. Even the company was a good one. I called them today to find out if they ever made a decision. They said it would be the end of this week. It wasn't a feel good conversation. Guess it's a good thing I took this job.
I really shouldn't complain. I believe I can push for a better position once I have proven myself. The people are nice.......... except a few of the women...........which I have never played well with. Women are crazy. The worst part is having to answer the phones.......... I hate phones. Its bitch work. Bitch work happens to be anything I don't want to do; like house work. It has nothing to do with women......... just to clarify that for the feminatzis.
I have twitchy eye. I've had it for almost a month its horrible. Even now, its twitching. Looked up causes and stress and fatigue are the top too. Cant imagine where I could get stress or fatigue. I think I will have a glass of wine and take some benadryl. Then I will be too tired to say or do anything to piss anyone off. Hopefully.
22 February 2012
21 February 2012
Yo - Yo
I worry that I only write about the bad things; as if that is all I ever experience. And to not write about the good is to not be grateful. That is not the case. It is as if the good are fragile and must me carefully observed. To spend too much time or pay them too much attention only results in twice as much bad. That is silly of course. But as much as I try to pretend I am not, I am human. I am a girl........ which means I am, at times.... crazy. Though I feel that I must point out, this girl is crazy because her boy is stupid. That was mean. But in my house, as long as it is funny........ it is not mean. So laugh, dammit.
So things were going well. One night my husband is working and asks me to stay up just a little longer with him until he is finished. I think this is sweet that he wants me around (also knowing how important to me it is that we go to bed together). I am exhausted and get up 3-4 hours earlier than him, but I consent.
He comes over after completing his work and sits with me unit the show I was watching is over and I get up to go to get ready for bed. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, he is back on his computer again. I ask him if he is coming to bed. He is rude and suggests that the work he is doing is for both of us.
Now I am unhappy but figure I won't win, so I got to bed alone. Approximately 10 minutes later I come out of the room and proceed to tell him (in my most diplomatic way) that I just stayed up an hour later for him because he asked me to and least he could do is come to bed as promised. But somewhere in there, I lose it and everything I have held back since my last melt down pours out. And he stares blankly at me like the crazy bitch he knows I have become. And as I stand there sobbing and heart broken, he just says, "So you want me to come to bed now?"
That was the day before Valentines Day. The next morning, exhausted and trying to function on less than 1 hours sleep (I can't sleep if we go to be bed pissed at one another.......... or rather I'm mad and confused at where we stand in our marriage). He calls me on my way in to my new job and acts as though everything is OK. I tried to apologize but he just blows everything off. So, I suck it up and do the same.
By the time I get off work, I am feeling better and decide that I is my job to make V-Day good. The evening was wonderful. He cooked dinner. I showed off some moves I learned in my Burlesque class............ he was very impressed. It was AMAZING. Like old times. And I wanted to write about it.... in detail. But, again.............. its a roller coaster ride.
Last he was getting ready to go out of town for work. The last time he told me this, he was really spending the night with some girl. I try to trust him but he has done so little to earn it. He tells me that if I want, I can get up at 5am and drive him to his coworkers (he is riding out of town with him)... but this is up to me. I am grateful that he understands how difficult it is for me and gives me this option...........as ridiculous as the option is....... I am grateful. Then our youngest comes down to show off a new skirt I had just bought for her and things get weird. At first I think his objections are just to give her a hard time. He doesn't really seem mad. I play along but then things go terribly wrong. He is really pissed. He accuses me of trying to make him the bad guy. Wait? What? I thought when it came to what their daughters wore, dad's were supposed to be the bad guy. He yelled at me. He never yells. Ever! I feel like shit. I tried to apologize but its not good enough. I am so lost and don't understand how we got to this place. I feel like Alice when she fell down the the rabbit hole.
So I apologize more and try to explain myself. Pretty soon the sound of my voice is the only one I hear. He has stopped talking. Stopped responding. I ask if he will just forgive me and he says yes. But he is still mad and I ask him why and he just says that I am the only one still talking. I don't know what he wants me to do. But I cant get past that fucking condescending look on his face. I storm out and tell him that I am sleeping in the guest room and he can drive himself out of town...........or where ever it is that he is really going (I know, I know...........so shouldn't have said that).
After 1 hour and 2 Benadryl, I know I will not get any sleep if I do not go back down to our room and fix things.............I only waited that long because I had hoped he would come get me.............though I know better. I turn the lamp on next to the bed and ask if he is awake. He is and I rush through the apology, taking blame for everything (as always). He asks me to turn off the lamp.
As I lay next to him and try to control the sobs, he asks me if it would be better if he just left. I say no.
I wait some time and then ask him if he wants to leave. He says no. Wait a little longer and then ask him why. He says it is because he loves me and our daughter.......... and my grandmother who lives with us.
And that is it. After a period of silence, he falls asleep and I pray.
"Father, please take control of this life that is so fucked up. Please take it away from me as I can do nothing productive with it. Please do not allow me to keep trying to it take back and run it, as clearly I am not qualified to do so. I am yours, Father. Please find some purpose in my existence because I am not sure I have one any longer."
And today everything was back to being ok............except that he is still out of town until tomorrow and I am here fretting about it. As if that have ever helped.
So things were going well. One night my husband is working and asks me to stay up just a little longer with him until he is finished. I think this is sweet that he wants me around (also knowing how important to me it is that we go to bed together). I am exhausted and get up 3-4 hours earlier than him, but I consent.
He comes over after completing his work and sits with me unit the show I was watching is over and I get up to go to get ready for bed. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, he is back on his computer again. I ask him if he is coming to bed. He is rude and suggests that the work he is doing is for both of us.
Now I am unhappy but figure I won't win, so I got to bed alone. Approximately 10 minutes later I come out of the room and proceed to tell him (in my most diplomatic way) that I just stayed up an hour later for him because he asked me to and least he could do is come to bed as promised. But somewhere in there, I lose it and everything I have held back since my last melt down pours out. And he stares blankly at me like the crazy bitch he knows I have become. And as I stand there sobbing and heart broken, he just says, "So you want me to come to bed now?"
That was the day before Valentines Day. The next morning, exhausted and trying to function on less than 1 hours sleep (I can't sleep if we go to be bed pissed at one another.......... or rather I'm mad and confused at where we stand in our marriage). He calls me on my way in to my new job and acts as though everything is OK. I tried to apologize but he just blows everything off. So, I suck it up and do the same.
By the time I get off work, I am feeling better and decide that I is my job to make V-Day good. The evening was wonderful. He cooked dinner. I showed off some moves I learned in my Burlesque class............ he was very impressed. It was AMAZING. Like old times. And I wanted to write about it.... in detail. But, again.............. its a roller coaster ride.
Last he was getting ready to go out of town for work. The last time he told me this, he was really spending the night with some girl. I try to trust him but he has done so little to earn it. He tells me that if I want, I can get up at 5am and drive him to his coworkers (he is riding out of town with him)... but this is up to me. I am grateful that he understands how difficult it is for me and gives me this option...........as ridiculous as the option is....... I am grateful. Then our youngest comes down to show off a new skirt I had just bought for her and things get weird. At first I think his objections are just to give her a hard time. He doesn't really seem mad. I play along but then things go terribly wrong. He is really pissed. He accuses me of trying to make him the bad guy. Wait? What? I thought when it came to what their daughters wore, dad's were supposed to be the bad guy. He yelled at me. He never yells. Ever! I feel like shit. I tried to apologize but its not good enough. I am so lost and don't understand how we got to this place. I feel like Alice when she fell down the the rabbit hole.
So I apologize more and try to explain myself. Pretty soon the sound of my voice is the only one I hear. He has stopped talking. Stopped responding. I ask if he will just forgive me and he says yes. But he is still mad and I ask him why and he just says that I am the only one still talking. I don't know what he wants me to do. But I cant get past that fucking condescending look on his face. I storm out and tell him that I am sleeping in the guest room and he can drive himself out of town...........or where ever it is that he is really going (I know, I know...........so shouldn't have said that).
After 1 hour and 2 Benadryl, I know I will not get any sleep if I do not go back down to our room and fix things.............I only waited that long because I had hoped he would come get me.............though I know better. I turn the lamp on next to the bed and ask if he is awake. He is and I rush through the apology, taking blame for everything (as always). He asks me to turn off the lamp.
As I lay next to him and try to control the sobs, he asks me if it would be better if he just left. I say no.
I wait some time and then ask him if he wants to leave. He says no. Wait a little longer and then ask him why. He says it is because he loves me and our daughter.......... and my grandmother who lives with us.
And that is it. After a period of silence, he falls asleep and I pray.
"Father, please take control of this life that is so fucked up. Please take it away from me as I can do nothing productive with it. Please do not allow me to keep trying to it take back and run it, as clearly I am not qualified to do so. I am yours, Father. Please find some purpose in my existence because I am not sure I have one any longer."
And today everything was back to being ok............except that he is still out of town until tomorrow and I am here fretting about it. As if that have ever helped.
13 February 2012
Support.....Where's Mine?
I'm trying to work this consultant thing..........selling stuff. It is difficult because, well lets face it............I hate people. Add to that, I have so thoroughly typecast home-based consultants, that I fear becoming the middle aged (which I am, almost), minivan driving (so NEVER going to happen), overweight (not the best shape but not a fatty) Jiffy Peanut Butter pushing, picket fence owning, superficial bitch. Too much?
I love what I do, I just struggle with my own stereotype. Stupid, I know. But to go from field agent candidate for a government agency to peddling kitchen wares, well..........it is a struggle not to allow it to kick your ego in the proverbial balls.
So my loving, supportive husband tells me that............well he said that I was doing it all wrong and just told me to stop. Another kick to the balls. Why? I beat myself up enough for both of us and maybe even a few others. So I wonder if I had more confidence about it, he would be more supportive. There are always two sides. And I can hear some friends, "Are you fucking serious? He should support you on everything! Why do you tolerate this?" And others, "He's a Marine, he wants you to be all in or don't bother. If you are not going to give this venture your all, quit!"
I get it. Meanwhile, my life revolves around supporting him...........making him feel loved....... supported.........asking about his day............giving a shit..........blah, blah, blah. And I can do without his support most days..........I am used it and try not to take it personally. But when things are the most difficult, that is when I need it the most. Even when it's something as stupid as........... as stupid as a home based business that I can't even put my hole heart into.
And I thought writing would make me feel better.
Reality check.
I love what I do, I just struggle with my own stereotype. Stupid, I know. But to go from field agent candidate for a government agency to peddling kitchen wares, well..........it is a struggle not to allow it to kick your ego in the proverbial balls.
So my loving, supportive husband tells me that............well he said that I was doing it all wrong and just told me to stop. Another kick to the balls. Why? I beat myself up enough for both of us and maybe even a few others. So I wonder if I had more confidence about it, he would be more supportive. There are always two sides. And I can hear some friends, "Are you fucking serious? He should support you on everything! Why do you tolerate this?" And others, "He's a Marine, he wants you to be all in or don't bother. If you are not going to give this venture your all, quit!"
I get it. Meanwhile, my life revolves around supporting him...........making him feel loved....... supported.........asking about his day............giving a shit..........blah, blah, blah. And I can do without his support most days..........I am used it and try not to take it personally. But when things are the most difficult, that is when I need it the most. Even when it's something as stupid as........... as stupid as a home based business that I can't even put my hole heart into.
And I thought writing would make me feel better.
Reality check.
08 February 2012
Yet Another Casualty
One of the guys I work with has been deployed to Afghanistan since early last year. He is young and started working for my company about a month after I did. We hit it off because I understand military culture and had no problem making fun of him for being in the Army. He is a good kid. We have kept in touch since his deployment. I offered my experience and family readiness training to his girlfriend but understand completely why she never contacted me.
A few months ago he confided in me that he had survived a very serious IED. And it wasn't his first. He was awarded a Purple Heart. I made jokes and advised him that being a Taliban target was not why he was sent over. I know he appreciates me not freaking out..........and not sharing the info with my coworkers as they all know his gf. Making light of the situation is just a bonus (kidding....sort-of)
His condition was, however, serious enough that they sent him home early. I know that there is a good chance he will not be coming back to work........... for many reasons, the main one being it is almost certain that they will close my plant within the year. My last day is this Friday.
I hear that he has plans to wed his gf very soon. I worry about him. Worry about both of them. I have invited them to my house for dinner (I am an amazing cook.......one of the few things I am still confident about). I really hope he takes me up on it.
A few months ago he confided in me that he had survived a very serious IED. And it wasn't his first. He was awarded a Purple Heart. I made jokes and advised him that being a Taliban target was not why he was sent over. I know he appreciates me not freaking out..........and not sharing the info with my coworkers as they all know his gf. Making light of the situation is just a bonus (kidding....sort-of)
His condition was, however, serious enough that they sent him home early. I know that there is a good chance he will not be coming back to work........... for many reasons, the main one being it is almost certain that they will close my plant within the year. My last day is this Friday.
I hear that he has plans to wed his gf very soon. I worry about him. Worry about both of them. I have invited them to my house for dinner (I am an amazing cook.......one of the few things I am still confident about). I really hope he takes me up on it.
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