Posted 10th April 2012 38

I have a long day of interning as a school social worker where I get to hear all the heartache in those poor children’s lives. When I get home, I clean up the mess of clothes consuming our bedroom floor (most of which are yours). I carefully load them all up, take them downstairs where there is yet another mess covering the basement floor (this would be your snowmobile gear that has been lying down there for well over a month along with old cable cords that you said you were getting rid of months ago). I sort our laundry into colors, fold anything that was in the dryer, and load up the washer with our dirty towels. I can’t remember the last time you did laundry. Seriously. Once that’s going, I head up to the computer room to work on a project. Not to mention, my final project before I graduate with my Masters in three weeks. Needless to say, I’ve been working my ass off to get this degree and yet still have to clean up after your ass day in and day out. I hear you pull up as you just have gotten off of work and open the back door…only to hear you say, “You have an order. Move that fuckin’ bike out of the way so I can pull my truck in the garage.” We argue for a matter of 30 seconds before I say “fuck it”, it’s not worth my breath. I make us dinner, all the while you sit at the kitchen table enjoying a beer and not speaking to me. Before I know it you are upstairs on the computer. It is well known that you can hear me eating by myself at this point and still don’t come down to join me. I finish, clean up, load the dishwasher, and head downstairs to switch out laundry. I kindly bring up a clean towel for you, without you even asking, but I knew that you needed one because the only one left in the bathroom was the one that neither of us like using. No “thank you” from you at all. I begin to work on homework, you go watch TV. Then I hear your voice, “Are you going to eat your french toast in the morning or can I have it?” Of course, I let you have some, because I MADE IT FOR YOU…dumb ass. You eat, throw you dishes in the sink (with an empty dishwasher sitting next to it waiting to be filled) and then go sit back down in front of the TV. Still, no “thank you”. I hear the buzzer go off on the washer/dryer so I head downstairs yet again to switch it. I bring it up stairs, fold the towels, and then proceed to the kitchen where I put your dirty dishes where they belong. Still, no “thank you”. Now here I am, supposed to be working on my project, but can’t stop thinking about how much you have managed to piss me off in the last 2 hours without really even saying a word, except for, “You have an order. Move that fuckin’ bike out of the way so I can pull my truck in the garage.” What bullshit…however, it sure has helped to rant and rave for a bit. Either way, my night will go on with this pounding headache and you will sit there unaffected by anything that has just happened. And on goes life. Thanks Dear, for making my night so fucking enjoyable.

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