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Whoever said that married life is all rainbows and cupcakes, is either a liar or totally omitting the gory details. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, but sometimes he annoys me more than any other person in the entire world. And it’s just not cool and makes me want to punch him in the head J-Woww style (Jersey Shore reference – did you see that shit?) – not that I ever would, but still.
For the most part, I do a majority of the household tasks. I usually do the shopping, most of the cooking during the week, laundry, kitchen straightening, etc. because I get off work a lot earlier than T. I don’t particularly love it, but it’s not the end of the world either. When he’s around on weekends, he’s pretty helpful – for the most part.
Now here’s what gets me freaking angry. I hate feeling like I’m being a nag or acting like “the mom” in the relationship, but Jesus Christ, sometimes the hubs makes me feel that way. Nothing gets under my skin more than when I ask him nicely to do something, and he tells me he’ll take care of it. Only he procrastinates on it FOREVER or just doesn’t do it at all – “oops, I forgot.” Then I get all bitchy and snippy and yell at him. But I do have to say, my outbursts make him get the job done.
So let’s take yesterday for example. T had off and I had to work. Sometime in the afternoon I asked him if he’d mind running to the store so I wouldn’t have to stop on my way home. He said sure. I also asked if he would mind starting dinner so we could eat earlier than 7:30 or 8, and we’d have time to take down our Christmas tree then relax afterward (Yes, it’s still up. I’m having a hard time letting it go because it makes the house feel so festive and cozy. And we’re lazy.)
Anyway…I got home a little after 6, and T was not home. In fact he was still at the store. This only meant one thing – that he left a lot later than he said he would. So of course, there was no dinner on the table. The kitchen was a disaster from when we had friends over this weekend and the garbage was overflowing. I know it was his day off, but damn son, couldn’t you get off your ass to take out the trash? It’s not like it has to be taken very far – the can is right behind our patio, about 10 steps there and back.
When he finally got home, groceries had to be put away. I ended up doing the kitchen cleaning and he started the food, but that was not the point. I wanted, for once, to come home to a fairly clean kitchen with dinner on the table – like it is on a regular basis for him. Needless to say, we didn’t eat until 7:30 and the Christmas tree is still up.
It just seems like taking care of the household is the major source of our arguments, and it’s driving me insane. I know no one enjoys cleaning, but we all have to do it. If I ask you to help me with something, don’t talk back to me like a 15-year-old or I will treat you like one (I should not be tested on this. That shit didn’t fly in my parents house, and it sure as hell won’t fly in my house now).
I don’t care how late you work or how much money you bring into the household, this ain’t 1950 and I am not Susie Homemaker. It’s 2010, we will split this shit evenly, like it or not! And in case you’ve forgotten, I also work a 40 week on top of all the crap I take care of at home. Enough said…
So here is where you come in, lovely readers. How do you handle household chore related drama with your significant other (or hell, even roommates)? Does it cause arguments on a regular basis? Does it make you want to punch somebody?
The traffic in Atlanta is ridiculous. I know how I have blogged about it before, but my experiences this morning have made me extra stabby. I live about 10 miles from the office, and I give myself 20-25 minutes to get here. But it never seems to make a difference. If I leave for work earlier than normal, I get stuck in traffic that is a result from idiots who can’t drive.
Take this morning, for example. I was in my car around 8:40. I was on my way and got caught at a red light. I was about 12-15 cars back, which isn’t so bad. When the light turned green, it seriously took the first couple of cars about 30 seconds to get moving. 30 fucking seconds!!! What the hell?!?! Do you want to know how many cars made it through the light? About 6. To me, that is totally unacceptable. I can not fathom why in the world it would take someone 30 seconds to notice that the light is green and push the gas pedal.
Once I made it past the idiots staring with gaping mouths at the green light and not moving, I had to get on the highway. Entering onto the highway from where I live is always an adventure. I have 3 different options I can take to get on the highway. I tend to avoid the one that is furthest north because the traffic over there is insane, plus you get caught up in the back up that is on the highway. There are 2 that are fairly close distance-wise, but the middle option has a horrible traffic light and the intersection backs up. So lately I have been using the one that is furthest south.
Sometime in 2009, the city of Atlanta and the GA DOT decided that it would be a good idea to install a ramp meter to help regulate the traffic. I am all for that, as long as they are helping the flow of traffic and not hindering it. Yesterday and today, the traffic on the highway has been moving, but the extended on-ramp has been backed up to the previous exit because of the metered light!
The metered light drives me insane because it seriously does nothing to help the flow of traffic. We are stuck in a line of cars, sitting bumper to bumper, while the cars on I-75 fly by us without a second glance. Sometimes I cheat, because another lane merges into this extended on ramp, and I cut over into the lane that rarely has any cars in it just so I don’t sit at the light forever.
Then, once I’m finally on the highway, I have to merge all the way to the far left lane so I can exit onto I-85 north. This is where I often encounter some major assholes – the people who ride in the lane, even though it says exit only, to avoid the standstill traffic. At the last possible second, instead of exiting onto the next highway, they come to a complete stop and try to merge back into the stopped traffic on I-75 south. This causes all of us exiters to be backed up and waiting for the douchebag to get over into the next lane, which is so not cool!
Once you get past all of the bad and selfish drivers, the traffic is fine. Until I get off the highway onto the road that takes me to my office. The speed limit is 40. This morning I was stuck behind a van, in the left lane (surprise, surprise), going 25-30 miles an hour. What is with people??? There is a HUGE speed limit sign right as you get off the exit, telling us how fast we need to drive. I don’t know why people think it’s acceptable to drive 15 miles under the speed limit. It wasn’t icy out or wet, there was no sun in our eyes, people just can’t freaking drive!
And while I’m all ranty, what the hell is up with traffic lights that aren’t sensored? Nothing annoys me more than when I’m driving on the bigger road and the light changes red at an intersection where there are no cars on the cross street, and I have to sit there for a minute or two. Is it that hard to install a sensor?
Don’t even get me started on lights that are on the same street that don’t sync up. How hard is it to make sure that all the lights on the main road are green while are the cross streets are red?
So, what’s getting under your skin today?
Remember how I was freaking out about T’s bachelor party in Vegas a few weeks ago? (I’ll give you a few minutes to refresh your memory….ok, ready?) His trip was this past weekend. And let me tell you, I was freaking out. I kept having this giant knot it my stomach throughout the 4 days he was out there. I was seriously a nervous wreck. But he was good and even called a few times to say hi. Except every time he called, the guys would be in the background telling him to get off the phone. This did annoy me a little because none of my friends acted like that when I was out of town and T called to chat for a minute. At one point I totally called them out for being guys who can’t get girlfriends harassing the one guy who has one. That shut them up for a bit.
Their weekend basically consisted of lots of drinking, gambling, eating, drinking, and going to clubs. When they got back last night, JD and I were ready to hear about all of their stories. But there weren’t really any good ones. There were no hook-ups, no getting kicked out of places (like on my weekend), and nothing really crazy to speak about. I thought this was pretty lame. If you’re going to spend a lot of money to go to Vegas, shouldn’t you have some kinds of stories? They totally could have stayed in Atlanta and saved a ton of money since they didn’t do anything spectacular.
On Saturday afternoon, T called to say hi and see what I was up to. There was a mention of going to a strip club that night, which really bummed me out. That night when I went to bed, I’d texted him to say good night and that I was glad he’d be home the next day. He never answered, so my Crazy kicked into overdrive. I couldn’t sleep because I kept dreaming about all these slutty and skanky naked girls dry humping all over T. Needless to say, I woke up super early on Sunday morning, not very well rested.
I had knots in my stomach all day waiting for him to get home because I was scared of what he would tell me about Saturday night. Well, they didn’t go to a strip club. They went to Pure. At one point in the trip, someone had told them to check out this one strip club, and they got there and had a drink and left. It was super expensive and you had to pay a girl to hang out at your table, and no one wanted to do that. So that was the end of strip clubs in Vegas. So I freaked myself out over nothing. I was a bit snippy with T at first before I knew what happened because that dream was so real. But I apologized to him and told him my reasons for being crazy, and he kind of laughed. His dad and I talked today about some wedding stuff, and he even confirmed that it was a pretty tame weekend on the grand scale of bachelor parties. So I psyched myself out all weekend for nothing. But I’m still glad it’s over.
Since I’d lost my mind this weekend, I gave myself some retail therapy. I went back to school shopping with JD (plus it was Tax-free Weekend) and ended up getting myself a sexy little red and black dress for Bachelorette Round 2 (basically just a girl’s night out in Atlanta) and found my rehearsal dinner dress. I also bought these super cute purple metallic peep-toed pumps from Target. I heart them a ton. I want to show you, but I couldn’t find a pic online (stupid Target Web site) and I don’t have a camera with me. But I can show you the dress. I think it’s the perfect mix of elegant and casual, perfect for a rehearsal dinner.
And, T and I are having a date night tonight. This makes me super happy! 🙂
I feel like in the grand scheme of things, I am a pretty rational person. I am trusting and forgiving, and don’t usually freak out about stuff. I always kid T that I am the best fiance he could have asked for. I have no problem going out with the guys. I can handle crude jokes and laugh at them. I can check out chicks with the best of them. As long as I’m not wanting to have a date night or I’m not feeling well, I don’t care if T wants to go out with the boys. Hell, he can even crash with friends if he can’t drive. I am that low-key. Until now…
Last night as I was about to go to bed, the realization that T’s bachelor party is in 2 weeks hit me. And it hit me hard. If you don’t know, he is going to Vegas with a group of his guy friends. And as the trip gets closer and closer, I am less than thrilled. All of the guys that are going on the trip are single. So they can do whatever the hell they want and don’t have to answer to anyone back home. I am friends with all of the guys going as well, and I know that they wouldn’t let anything bad happen, but still. T is a very attractive guy. I know this, he knows this,and other people know this.
I know that there will be gambling, drinking and partying. As well as strip clubs. Normally I don’t give 2 shits about T going to a strip club. Hell, I’ve gone with him before. It’s the fact that it’s his bachelor party that skeeves me out. I’m sure the stripper will give him something “special” since it’s his last crazy adventure before getting married. And that bugs me. I don’t want some nasty skank all over my fiance, rubbing her lady lumps all over him. I’m sure the guys will get him a lap dance or something, but I don’t want it to happen. Why can’t the single guys stuff dollar bills down g-strings and leave T out of it. Why can’t they just go to the beach like the girls? Why do boys always have to blow it out?
It’s not that I don’t trust T and our guy friends, I don’t trust other people, who may take things a little too far. Plus I don’t want him to spend tons of money less than a month before our wedding. Sigh…
Am I being completely irrational? How would you feel if you were me?
I am a very easy going person. A lot of my friends kid me and say that I am the nicest person they’ve ever met, that no one hates me or I don’t hate anyone – I guess for the most part that’s true (you have to seriously double-cross me for me to write you off. I’ll give you a few chances to make things right, after that I write you off, for good). The bad thing is, the more you mean to me, the more comfortable I feel exposing the not-so-nice side of Bing.
I am true to my Scorpio nature (uh-oh, better watch out). I am very passionate, loyal, caring, emotional and inquisitive on my good days, but on my bad days I can be quick-tempered, obstinate, moody and vindictive. And trust me, you don’t want to be around me when that happens (it’s for your own safety).
I do try really hard to control my temper around my co-workers and my friends, and it works most of the time. I can only remember a few times when I’ve totally lost it at a friend and screamed at them (I think I usually won since I fight dirty when you really piss me off).
*Tangent – One time my old boss (who was tiny at 5’6, I’m 5’10 without shoes) was being a total pain in the ass yelling at me and being a shit, and I lost it on him. And it was awesome. I’m guessing he felt small because he asked me to sit down, and I told him I was fine standing. So much for trying to level the playing field. The whole office cheered when we were finished yelling.*
The bad thing about me is that I’ve never been able to control my temper around my family. As a kid I would act like a brat when I didn’t get what I wanted. When I was a teenager, God help my parents for putting up with me (especially my dad), I would just lose it. If I felt like I was getting threatened, I would verbally attack – just imagine a scorpion that feels threatened and ZAP it stings you with its tail – and sometimes would say the meanest things. I never really meant them (only a few times) and after I cooled down everything would be ok. I just had to get it out of my system.
Unfortunately, now T gets the brunt of my rage, and I don’t know why. I love him more than anything and can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him. But he just annoys me so bad sometimes!!! He can say something that’s supposed to be a joke or funny, and it sets me off. Then I yell at him, causing a fight that makes us both miserable. He’s been really stressed lately because he is an accountant, and this is his hell time. On top of that, he is studying for the CPA after working 12-hour days (which I could NEVER imagine doing). I know I need to cut him some slack and not be a psycho, but I can’t stop myself and I hate that.
Part of my temper stems from the fact that I feel like I am stuck doing everything: cooking, cleaning, shopping, laundry, etc. I think my psycho side expects him to come home after working a long-ass day and help me do stuff when my rational side knows that isn’t possible. Some nights he doesn’t come home till 10:30 or later, then he stays up till 1:00 or later studying. I know he is miserable, but I still act like a bitch. But, I am attempting to chill out (it is one of my resolutions this year). And I hope he can forgive my bitchy outbursts.
Btw…it is really hard to bounce between the press release I’m working on and this post.