Oh that first line indicates a Hub Rant.
I love my husband, I really do. He is not a bad person. He has flaws out the wazoo, some of them I think are just plain dangerous, but he means well and does what he has to do and doesn't complain about it or throw it in my face. And he puts up with all of my shit, too. He's a good dad and treats my own kids just like his own. And he's really good in bed. And a damn handsome man, if I do say so myself.
All that said, the man is driving me crazy lately. Crazy insane. Loco. Damn close to finding a nice wall to sit in front of and just bang my head against it repeatly. What it comes down to is that there is a major issue going on with us right now, and we are avoiding that issue at all costs (me a little better at it than him), so these little petty things are creeping out on me and just making me nutty. Bananas, man.
RIght now, the business is in bad shape. Really bad. Hub has lost customers this year and pissed people off. He is STILL behind on his spring clean ups and has barely started mowing. This is due to two things, lack of money and very bad time management skills on his behalf. We know nothing about business in areas that we really need to (I'm not unaccountable in all this, and I won't pretend to be just to make me look better), and "flying by the seat of our pants" just isn't a viable business plan.
Hub's answer, of course, is to apply for a loan and that will fix everything. I disagree and refuse to apply for one. There is so much more to fix, and it starts with things that he just won't or can't fix. A combo of won't and can't. He's depending on me for way more than I signed up for. I was set doing the books. Typing up bills, doing payroll, taking payments, etc. I didn't sign up to be business professional/landscaper. Not a sales job, trying to get out there in the field and deal with customers, when they are asking questions about things that I do not know: ie; landscaping. Plus, and he hates this so much, I always have kids. With the exception of a day like yesterday, when I was child free for two and half hours, I have kids all the time. Fact of life, sorry.
My main beef is how he handles things financially. Nothing's changed. He just can't get it into his thick head that a checking account is not an endless supply of money. I have asked him, please, if you're going to spend more than "X" amount of money, let me know! I'm not saying "ask" me (which I think is what he thinks, no matter how many times I've tried to explain otherwise), just let me know so that I don't spend that money. I let him know when big bills are getting paid, so he doesn't see a big balance at the ATM and assume it's free for the taking. He doesn't give me receipts on time, he tries but STILL there are missing ones. It's been the same shit from day one and just doesn't change, nor does he put forth much effort to try to change.
My frustration turned to apathy last week when the one thing I've tried so hard to avoid happened on account of his reckless spending: an employee's paycheck bounced. The balance on the account was down and I had told him that the paycheck was $200 and there was $700 in the account, so he could spend $500 on what he needed for the day (mulch and shit--oh, did I mention that he gets nothing fronted anymore? Yeah, he has to pay up front. Fucking great). He came home that night and I ordered a complete surrender of the receipts for the day and he said, "I think I went over". Sure enough, he did.
So, the next day was when we went up to Maine to visit. We had just gotten into Maine when the emp called from the bank, they couldn't cash his check. The fucking check was for $192 and the balance in the account was $130. Fucking sixty bucks. It was then that I was like, you know what? That was his fucking fault and I'm not dealing with it. I fucking went out of my way to make sure the money was there, and he still fucked it up. He was all asking me what he could do, and I was like "the fuck if I know. Not my problem". Fuck him. All day he was all, ho-hum, boo hoo, I feel so bad about Chris's check. I offered not one word of comfort because he didn't deserve it.
Not the last time we've had money issues there, but I don't care. The easiest solution would be to yank the debit card from him, but it just isn't plausible. He does need to ghet shit while he's working, as much as it makes me nuts to hear him when he starts his "I need, I need, I need" shit. It's either he gets the debit card or he's coming home for a check everytime he needs something (he can't sign them, only I can. Even if we wanted to put him on the account, he can't because he owes banks money from other checking accounts. Ain't that shocking), which, back and forth from places like Litchfield and Nashua costs some gas money driving his big gas guzzling F350 hauling a 5000 lb trailer. Either that or give him cash, which he'd spend a chunk of everyday at every Dunkins whim he had.
Anyway, the business has become a very sensitive issue between us. We rarely speak of it because whenever we do, tempers flare. Which is totally and completely dysfunctional. I have a degree in that. I know his feelings on it, because he wrote me a letter the other night and he's spoken about it, but he doesn't know mine. He hasn't seemed too concerned with how I feel about any of this. Nor have I been forthcoming. I figure what's the fucking use. He has an idea in his head and that's all that matters, that's the way it is. He says he wants to make money to pay off the business's debt (roughly $8000 at this point, I've paid down some) and then quit the business and go to work for someone else. I think he's talking shit and is hoping to sway me into getting the loan.
My feeling is that he should work for himself as an independent contractor. Fuck mowing and maintenance and focus on what he does best: hardscaping, ie; walks, walls, patios, waterfalls, etc. But, he doesn't see this as an option. He's fixated on what he has in his head and that is that. Myself, I'm thinking about going back to work in the fall. I'm leaning toward something third shift. 8-5 is out of the question, not with three teenagers in the house, nevermind finding afterschool care for the little kids, which will run me like $150 a week and what's the point for that? Ya know? But, I could swing 11-7 for the most part, working at night and sleeping while the kids are at school. It wouldn't be a perfect situation, but I have to do something. I got me a hankering for a paycheck every week and, more importantly, health insurance (I really, really, need to start seeing a doctor again. As much as I'd like to just go in for physical, even paying cash we could swing that visit, but at my age, I fear the chances are pretty high that I might have a few things to "follow up" on, and that would just cost more money).
Here's some random petty shit that is driving me crazy lately.
For one, he really needs to learn how to SHUT THE FUCK UP. He's worse than ten old ladies. I think this ties in with his time management issues when he's working. He fucking gets chatting with people and the next thing you know, an hour has gone by. He goes to get supplies, he's in with the guys chit chatting for a half an hour. He keeps saying he doesn't do that if I bring it up, but then he starts talking this and that about his day and it will inevitably come up every damn time: "Oh, I had a nice talk with so and so today". He knows all kinds of shit about people's kids and grandkids and family situations, what the neighbors are like, where they went to fucking school, for crying out loud.
Oh and I'm sure they know all his personal problems, too. His complete and total lack of discretion when it comes to discussing his personal life with others is fucking amazing. Amazing, I can think of no other word. Or maybe, "shameful"? Not that I have anything to hide and I don't think he discusses too much about us. But who knows. Whatever. But his kids, that's another story. When the whole Daisy trial shite was going on, he would talk about it in detail with anybody who would listen. Everybody had to know about the drama, and he didn't think twice to be like, "Daisy got molested" to whoever. Is this really something you want just anyone to know? How about thinking about how she'd feel about everybody knowing that?
Now it's Hilda. She still wants to live here and that's cool, I have no problem with it at all. She'd be better off here and she still wants to, no question in her mind. But, Shauna's starting to be a *cunt* about everything (surprise surprise) and it looks like she might put up a fight about Hilda coming to live here. Oh, this is all he can talk about. A slight digression uno momento por favor: he's already talking about a guardian ad litem and court trial. Like we can fucking afford this. I already let him know (whether he understood what I was saying is another story, despite my using plain English to tell him) that #1 we can't afford it and #2 I won't support him in it. Meaning, leave me the fuck out of it. I can't do it again, I just can't. Another $10,000? What about us? What about the kids we have here? What about our bills? Do the fucking courts have to come up with these kids every two fuckin years? Because that's how it's been, and I'm getting tired. Work it out between yourselves for a fucking change. Has he not learned the price of putting your kids life up for a judge to decide?
Is it any wonder I haven't ground my teeth down to little itty bitty nubs of their former selves?
Is it any wonder I'm not crazy? Is it any wonder I'm sane at all?
Anyway, yeah he needs to shut up. To hear him talk to other people, sometimes I want to hang myself. Right there. I visualize just getting a rope, making a nice noose, hanging it up and getting a chair...you get the idea. I read this rant on Myspace last week about people who interrupt when other people are talking, specifically people who interrupt because they have no interest in hearing what you say, just saying what they have to say. That is my husband. You can tell, too, you can so tell when you're talking that the person who is "not talking" (as opposed to "listening") is busy getting what they have to say ready. It drives me nuts. I consider myself to be a good listener. I will listen to shit that I have no interest in whatsoever, I'm such a good fucking listener. So, when I see him doing what he does, I go bananas.
For example. Yesterday we had an insurance audit for the Worker's Comp policy. Basically they look to make sure we had adequate coverage for what we paid out in wages last year. Surprisingly enough, we overpaid our policy and will be getting money back (Hub says, "Oh, it should be like $5000" and I was like, "Um, how do you figure? Since that's pretty much what we paid?"), so that's good. I was a little worked up about it, but that's me lately where the business is concerned. Anyway, due to the rain, Hub happened to be here for the audit. I had spoken to him earlier and just mentioned that the guy was coming, basically so he knew. I think he thought he should be there for it. Like he knows about the fucking books. Now, some things he could answer for the guy, like what his guys did during work. (Although, my favorite part was when the guy asked if we used any independent contractor's last year. We only used hourly employees,and he fucking knows that. He looks at me and asks, "Did we?". You are not THAT dumb, I think you'd know if you were paying skilled labor as opposed to that hacks that did work for him. Also my favorite was when the guy asked if he did snowplowing in the winter, and Hub looks at me and says, "You got Litchfield in there?". WHAT?!? What does that have to do with whether or not I "have Litchfield" in there?)
Anyway, the guy is just asking questions about how we came up with the estimated payroll, out of curiousity, I'm guessing to see if we could avoid over-paying this year, and Hub had nothing to do with that! I fucking figured it out on my own, me and the insurance played the damn numbers. Anyway, despite this fact, Hub turned it into his "how to make it in business" speech. I felt so bad for the guy and it was all I could do not to yell, "SHUT THE FUCK UP! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!". The guy would ask a a simple question, and Hub would start fucking rambling on and on about shit that had nothing to do with the question whatsofuckingever. When I couldn't take anymore (remember Harold & Kumar, the bathroom Diarrhea Twins scene, when Harold finally yells, "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!" and bails out of the stall? That's how I was feeling, sans smelling diarrhea), I snuck in behind the poor insurance guy's back and did the whole "cut it!" gesture, you know, cutting across my neck with my hand, to Hub. I felt like a bitch, but what the fuck. SHUT UP!!!
Another thing is that he needs to stop breaking my shit!!! Honest to goodness. How come I can drive my van all week, and it doesn't break, but he has it for an hour or two, and it's fucked up everywhere? He took Hilda home Monday. Blew out my tire. When he called to tell me about it, I was like, "How the fuck did you do that?" cuz, sorry, those tires are still relatively new. Plus? I've had no problems. He was all, high pitched, defensive, "I didn't do it!!!". But when he came home, he said a big piece of metal got into the tire. It hunted my tire down, I guess. I was all, "How the fuck?" and he says, "I didn't see it". HEY! Let's try LOOKING AT THE ROAD! Fucking hello!
Beavis summed up Hub's driving best when he said Hub drives like Pong. You know Pong, the old old super duper old school video game, where the ball bounces back and forth between the two lines. Hub's vehicle is the little ball, the lane he's driving in is the boundaries. You get the idea, if you know Pong.
Yeah, my husband drives like Pong. He needs a brand new vehicle warranteed out the hooha because he can and will destroy anything else.
What else, what else. Oh here's something totally petty, his complete and total lack of attention to details, like, for instance, names of people, places and things, and then his "Who cares" attitude if there's a misunderstanding because of such.
Plus the whole, "I'm going to tell you a story, but I'll start at a part where you will have absolutely no idea what THE FUCK I am talking about" thing is annoying.
And, and. I hate the phone. I hate talking on it, it just bugs me. And he knows this. If you want to talk to me on the phone, get to the fucking point. Nope, he'll call and start playing, "Hello? Hello? Hi. Hi" until I'm all, WTF!!! You know, he can't get to the phone to tell me stuff like, "hey, I need to put $400 on the card to buy such and such", then it's a problem to fucking call, but he can call whenever he "just wants to say hi" or, my personal fucking delight, the call at 9:00 at night to say, "I'm on my way home". At that point, why fucking bother? Obviously, you won't be joining us for dinner, and by then, I'm done for the night, so fuck it, go to the tittie bar for all I care. Actually, I'd prefer that, because when his ass rolls in at 9:30 at night, I'm not really into chit chatting about the day and shit. I'm done. Kids are in bed, and I'm catching up on my TV or surfing the web (cuz I can do that in bed now on the laptop! Whoo!), or reading a book. I'm done with my interacting with other people, I don't care who you are. If you're my kid, you'd better be puking is all I have to say. Nothing else is getting my ass out of my own world at that point.
Marraige is crap. I advise against it.
Yeah, so, in other news, I finally called the school about the situation at the bus stop. It has become absolutely so unbearable since those new kids got there. And it was already hell down there in the morning!!! ELE has his new partner in crime, who I have nicknamed "Ultra Mega Fucker". This is the kid who moved into the Hot Karl's old place, I mentioned him when I first met him, after he'd just torn a salamander limb from limb. He's a little shit. Makes ELE look like Beaver Frickin Cleaver. It's a circus down there and I started making a habit of taking Minnie down at the last possible minute. But, yesterday, after the flooding and shit, the bus was late, and even though I was sitting in the van, these kids behavior was ATROCIOUS. Throwing rocks all over, boulders and sticks in the driveway where we drive our cars, getting trash all over the place, playing and pushing each other right next to the road (which is very busy in the morning and some of these cars fly by at 45, 50 mph), crossing the road, throwing rocks into the road, yelling at cars, etc etc etc. The bus driver told me a few weeks ago that the bus stop is considered an extension of the classroom and I thought, "The fuck they'd put up with this shit at school", so I called the assistant principal. Fuck them kids, and their parents, too. I'm all set being the only adult down there when one of those little fuckers gets hits by a car, My luck, I wouldn't have my camera with me and missed a good photo opp. That's how bad I am about these kids, fuck some kid getting hurt or killed by a car, fuck it, they've got that coming the way they're begging for it, but that I'd be pissed about not getting shots. Anyway, I finally had it watching this shit and called the school. Fuck em if they have a problem with it. I've had enough and let their parents give me shit about it. I don't see them down there AT ALL.
Ultra Mega Fucker. I kill me.
Anyway, end my bullshit rant. It took way too long to write.
Ciao.