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Well, it would be so much easier to update this thing if you people would stop updating yours� for a minute, man! And if I could turn off the fucking yahoo IM. I�ve got half an hour and Butthead will be home from finals and will probably want to hog my computer again. He will have to wait.
I was in a major piss ass mood until somebody cheered me up. Now I�ve slipped back into a minor piss ass mood.
It�s fucking freezing. Below fucking freezing. I hate the cold. Dammit does it piss me off. Have to keep the kids in all day. I am so sick of being trapped here with these kids. I had a three day weekend and went all out and about with my kids, but even that sucked. Walking around stores like a fucking choo choo train conga line, not really being able to look at anything for more than a second before one of them gets up to no good.
I�ve got major cabin fever. Kids are driving me nuts. I�m so tired. Up late chatting but worth every second. Hub thinks I passed out in front of the computer until I came up. Whatever. Then I get up first thing and have to deal with his checkbook. I hate that fucking thing. He just does not get the fucking concept. �Honey, you put yourself in the negative by XX dollars�. Then he gives me, �But I needed *some stupid piece of shit what I don�t give a crap about it�s just a sorry excuse as far as I�m concerned* really bad�. Then he gives me a pile of fucking plow billing to do. Yah. Like that�s gonna happen with all these extra kids here.
I swear we got a fucking dusting yesterday and he was gone for 12 hours plowing. Come fucking on. He says we got 3 inches, like I�m stupid. Ain�t no 3 inches on the ground. I�m not the one who�s half blind. I don�t think he�s out cheating but maybe avoiding home. Whatever.
I just don�t feel the same about him anymore. Oh great here come the fucking tears. Like that whole, �I love him but I�m not in love with him� bullshit clich� that I always mocked and here I am living it. And he�s still in love with me, and he�s always saying he�s going to love me forever and I�m just not there with him. What we have works for the most part, and I can�t say that I�m miserable, cuz I�m not.
I was miserable with Dick. That was fucking misery. Especially the last nine months. The only happy memories I have of that time were when it was just me and the kids and he was gone working or on a crack bender or whatever the fuck else he did. I can remember just disappearing on him, with or without the kids (when I could still trust him with Beavis, that is) and crying and PRAYING for a way out. That was fucking misery. Misery was being woken up at 4:00am cuz that�s when he got up for work and he wanted to fight first. Misery was getting a great job at a great company and having him calling my extension and harassing me because he felt like it. Misery was having the rent spent on crack. Misery was putting up with insane jealousy.
But my prayers were answered the morning he threatened Beavis. Because that was it. He�d started pushing me around in front of the kids, and raising his fist to me but when he got in Beavis� face, that was it. I called out of work that day and went to the courts and got a restraining order and had his ass removed. I�ve said it before: March 2, 2000. Independence Day. Hard to believe it�ll be 5 years. It seems like yesterday.
Anyway, I�m not miserable. Our�s is not a miserable home. It works for the kids. We�ve got a lot built up together, but something�s lacking for me. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger. It won�t go away. Not miserable, but generally dissatisfied, maybe? Online therapist, any sage advice?
Anyway. I�ve got to go get a tissue. It is not easy to sit here tearing up with the kids here. Fortunately, they haven�t noticed. Maybe Butthead and I can have more fun with the dolls again. Maybe I can cook myself up some really yummy comfort food and chow down. But I�ve been doing so well this week (sans major beer consumption), I can�t blow it now. So I�ll go have a fucking carrot or some rabbit food like that.
Anyway. Time to think about lunch for the ankle biters.
Sayonara!