I just walked away from a sinkful of dishes and a floor full of Rice Krispies because I can't keep it together.
I'm so done. I had to clean up make up all over the bathroom floor, then the cereal that was everywhere...kids partying in their room instead of sleeping, scraps of paper EVERYWHERE. I probably should have made them clean it up.
I didn't get to sleep in at all over the weekend. I had to do all the laundry. There was no "break" for me. He took the kids out Friday and for awhile on Saturday, so there, I said it. He did that. He hounded me about what I wanted to eat and Sunday when I finally said something, he went and got it. There. He did that. Is that enough props? Can I scream yet about how SUCKY it is to be the only one DOING anything? For a minute? I do it all the time- 97% of everything, but could I get a break for a MINUTE while my stupid incisions are healing? NO! I can't! I'll be on my hands and knees in a few minutes, cleaning the stupid floor. I'm CRABBY. I feel like no one in this house gives a SHIT about the MAID or the COOK or the CHAUEFFER that has been DOING EVERYTHING. It wasn't a major surgery---remember, when I have major surgery, I get 3 weeks before having it all dumped on my lap again. So, I should have assumed that I'd get a couple of naps for a MINOR SURGERY, which did stil include an ORGAN REMOVAL.
This place would go to hell in a handbasket in NO TIME FLAT if I stopped existing here. Oh, I know, they'd all figure it out really fricken fast, but there are a bunch of boys living here who don't give a shit about anything outside of themselves. AGAIN, just so I don't get slammed- Cullen throws a load of laundry in when he sees it needs to be done. He hasn't learned how to hang it up or fold it yet, so I have to redo it, but hey, it gets clean. He also takes the kids out, and he works 2 jobs. Doesn't cook. But is happy to go drive to get me/him food. If I eat, he'll eat so he likes to encourage me to eat.
Here is my fantasy- other than the one where there is a man here, vaccumming, doing dishes, COOKING, FOLDING LAUNDRY...other than that one, I dream of going somewhere where the life isn't sucked out of me, somewhere that I am appreciated. Remember what it was like BEFORE you were married with kids? When they got gas for you so you didn't have to? When they cooked for you to impress you? When you had surgery and they actually TOOK CARE OF YOU without WHINING about it? I'm so pissed. He is not going to ruin my kidney donation. If I end up hating him, fine, but I am not going to avoid it because he's a pos when it comes to taking care of me. I've said it for years: I am self sufficient without him. I'd be a little broker but I do it all and can figure it out or get someone else to do what he does. I don't ask for much! Back to my fantasy. I don't even know what it is. I don't have one. I wish I could just GO AWAY. I just want to go away.
UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH! I need a BREAK! And I'm getting it TOMORROW! Allyssa...THANK GOD FOR ALLYSSA! I can't deal. I just can't deal.
I'll feel better tomorrow. I always do. Carry on. I hate tonight. Stupid, stupid mess that no one will effing clean up, no one but me. Jackasses.
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