I really don’t want to be angry. Truly. It is an amazing and beautiful day. I only had to work for three hours. HB is getting off early, and I’m not flat broke.
I should be estatic.
But fuck everything, because my goddamned hormones demand it.
Haha. Not pregnant! Took a test two days ago after being four days late. My cycle is running long which makes ovulation difficult to time… which doesn’t fucking matter because my husband doesn’t want to perform.
It takes two to make a baby and that motherfucker is slacking. He’s just not feeling “sexual”. Where as a year ago, when we were long distance, he couldn’t wait to get into my pants.
But he’s tired. So we try for morning.
But he’s constipated. I make him flax seed fiber muffins and give him some magnesium.
His tummy hurts. Give him pepto, Alka seltzer, tums, immodium. Whole goddamned drug store.
He isn’t in the mood. Okay. We can get creative. Try new things, lingere, saucy movies, weird shit.
He had a bad day. Okay. I will cook dinner, clean, snuggle, rub your feet, scratch his head… whatever he needs.
So, it doesn’t fucking matter if I’m ovulating.
And I’m trying so goddamned hard. I am trying to be supportive. Trying to be helpful. Trying to be understanding. Trying to not be so completely disappointed.
But we are trying to have a baby, and I feel like this is a freaking university group project where I’m the one stuck doing all the work and the other person is phoning it in.
And work isn’t better
Came home pissed because of fucking drama shit that happens when you work with a bunch of petty passive aggressive women who look for reasons to start shit because their life is so empty and unfulfilling that the only thing they find meaningful is interpersonal conflict. Their favorite type of interpersonal conflict is called the Equalizer, where the bitch pack selects target, usually someone who is doing “better” in life or has qualities that make the bitch pack feel inferior or threatened — intellegence, talent, drive, work ethic — and then they make it their life’s mission to make their target as miserable as possible while at work so the bitch pack doesn’t feel so fucking bad.
I came home to angry clean. And I got angry at angry cleaning because my back started hurting and that stupid using a drill with a scrub brush attached doesn’t fucking work. My brush kept coming loose and I had to manually scrub.
Bullshit. So I guess angry laundry and just angry everything will be the course of my day.
Fortunately the end of our work season is coming up. I might be able to transfer during the off season — get put up in a room for a few weeks and do what I do at a different center, with a $700 month differential and a 5% raise during the time I transfer.
Or I can sit at home and collect unemployment from being laid off and work on the house and other creative ventures.
I looked at the job boards today and everything was either retail, food service, or shit I could totally do with a few weeks training, but the listing requires a degree in the thing plus five years experience doing the thing.