yet another rant
ok, i once said that usually when someone says, "i love so-and-so to death..." it is usually followed with why they would love to kick them in the face.
i love j and b (a couple of my neighbors) to death, but:
this weekend my wife came back from a trip to vegas for a "girl's lost weekend" (lol) that was 4 or 5 days long, during which time i was taking care of the kids by myself, and going to school, had possibly the biggest load of homework i have had since starting back to higher learning, and a gigantic pile of laundry that served only to piss me off.
my wife and i have our routine. she knows when she is gone, the house is gonna get messy. she also knows that it will be spotlessly clean by the time she walks through our front door. that is our deal. that is our agreement. she cleans house much less than i do.
so on wednesday, the sink was full of dishes. honestly. full. like you had to move them out of the way to fill a glass of water. at least half those dishes had been in there before my wife left.
j n b's son watched the kids when i went to class, and apparently one or the other of them brought him dinner and saw the messy kitchen, and dirty floor.
now, thursday, i loaded the dishwasher. so the sink was empty again. of course, they didn't fucking stop by on thursday, did they? they didn't check on me at all as a matter of fucking fact at any time except when i was actually not home.
oh no! no: hey just checking to see how you were managing and did you need anything?
but one fucking sink full of fucking dishes and j is spreading the word to everyone on the cove how i have let things fall to shit this week. b. e. (other neighbor) just laughs when he tells me, cause when he wasn't working, he was usually on the wii while the housework piled up.
and, saturday night, the night my wife comes back, b, who is holding her 12th large glass of vodka with some juice added to color, has to swing into my house to make sure i have cleaned and then to give me some kinda convoluted lecture/pat on the back that involved saying things such as "your wife doesn't need any more stress..." (what, from all the fucking partying in vegas?!!? god forbid she come back from drinking too much and blowing all our spare cash at the tables to a fucking messy house!) and "i know you are going to school, and i am really proud of you, but..." (but fucking what?!!? not only should i work full time, coordinate the kids' appointments, go to school half time, and do homework, but i should also have the fucking house fucking spotless at any given moment for my fucking neighbors' inspections?!!?)
you know what? we all have our flaws. b.e. can be rude as fuck when he is drinking (which is alot). j drinks beer every night as well, and when he gets his drink on, he has a habit of getting physical with his teenage son, sometimes in a way that crosses over from play or discipline and into abuse (in my opinion, and only in my opinion). his wife, b, as i alluded to previously, drinks every weekend away, to such a point that we don't even bother them on a sunday until well after one because she and j are probably sleeping off a monfuckingstrosity of a hangover.
and these motherfuckers are gonna lecture me on a sinkful of dishes, some popcorn and legos scattered across the floor, and a pile of clean but needing to be folded laundry on my couch?
you know what? i don't run around telling these fuckers how to live their lives. i never say maybe you should drink less. maybe you shouldn't hit p so much. maybe you should mind your own fucking business. i never run to anyone else (except maybe my wife) and share any of my concerns for these, my friends, because it is none of my goddamn business in the first fucking place. and because i am far from perfect, i feel ill-equipped to advise others on how to live their lives.
so i stood there, fuming a bit, sipping my whiskey sour a little faster than normal to not go off or argue during the drunken, rambling lecture.
but you know what else, o beloved non-existant readers? while these people are my friends, this is one case where, to maintain our friendship, i need to say, (even if only within the scope of this blog, which none of them read) fuck you. fuck your dumb fucking drunken asses. mind your own goddamn business and let me and my wife handle our affairs, since you seem to be having a hard time handling the shit at your own fucking house, and overall i have things well in hand at my pad, thank you the fuck very much. now piss the fuck off!
thanks for letting me get that off my chest in a forum where it causes no damage to me or anyone else involved.
darth sardonic
i love j and b (a couple of my neighbors) to death, but:
this weekend my wife came back from a trip to vegas for a "girl's lost weekend" (lol) that was 4 or 5 days long, during which time i was taking care of the kids by myself, and going to school, had possibly the biggest load of homework i have had since starting back to higher learning, and a gigantic pile of laundry that served only to piss me off.
my wife and i have our routine. she knows when she is gone, the house is gonna get messy. she also knows that it will be spotlessly clean by the time she walks through our front door. that is our deal. that is our agreement. she cleans house much less than i do.
so on wednesday, the sink was full of dishes. honestly. full. like you had to move them out of the way to fill a glass of water. at least half those dishes had been in there before my wife left.
j n b's son watched the kids when i went to class, and apparently one or the other of them brought him dinner and saw the messy kitchen, and dirty floor.
now, thursday, i loaded the dishwasher. so the sink was empty again. of course, they didn't fucking stop by on thursday, did they? they didn't check on me at all as a matter of fucking fact at any time except when i was actually not home.
oh no! no: hey just checking to see how you were managing and did you need anything?
but one fucking sink full of fucking dishes and j is spreading the word to everyone on the cove how i have let things fall to shit this week. b. e. (other neighbor) just laughs when he tells me, cause when he wasn't working, he was usually on the wii while the housework piled up.
and, saturday night, the night my wife comes back, b, who is holding her 12th large glass of vodka with some juice added to color, has to swing into my house to make sure i have cleaned and then to give me some kinda convoluted lecture/pat on the back that involved saying things such as "your wife doesn't need any more stress..." (what, from all the fucking partying in vegas?!!? god forbid she come back from drinking too much and blowing all our spare cash at the tables to a fucking messy house!) and "i know you are going to school, and i am really proud of you, but..." (but fucking what?!!? not only should i work full time, coordinate the kids' appointments, go to school half time, and do homework, but i should also have the fucking house fucking spotless at any given moment for my fucking neighbors' inspections?!!?)
you know what? we all have our flaws. b.e. can be rude as fuck when he is drinking (which is alot). j drinks beer every night as well, and when he gets his drink on, he has a habit of getting physical with his teenage son, sometimes in a way that crosses over from play or discipline and into abuse (in my opinion, and only in my opinion). his wife, b, as i alluded to previously, drinks every weekend away, to such a point that we don't even bother them on a sunday until well after one because she and j are probably sleeping off a monfuckingstrosity of a hangover.
and these motherfuckers are gonna lecture me on a sinkful of dishes, some popcorn and legos scattered across the floor, and a pile of clean but needing to be folded laundry on my couch?
you know what? i don't run around telling these fuckers how to live their lives. i never say maybe you should drink less. maybe you shouldn't hit p so much. maybe you should mind your own fucking business. i never run to anyone else (except maybe my wife) and share any of my concerns for these, my friends, because it is none of my goddamn business in the first fucking place. and because i am far from perfect, i feel ill-equipped to advise others on how to live their lives.
so i stood there, fuming a bit, sipping my whiskey sour a little faster than normal to not go off or argue during the drunken, rambling lecture.
but you know what else, o beloved non-existant readers? while these people are my friends, this is one case where, to maintain our friendship, i need to say, (even if only within the scope of this blog, which none of them read) fuck you. fuck your dumb fucking drunken asses. mind your own goddamn business and let me and my wife handle our affairs, since you seem to be having a hard time handling the shit at your own fucking house, and overall i have things well in hand at my pad, thank you the fuck very much. now piss the fuck off!
thanks for letting me get that off my chest in a forum where it causes no damage to me or anyone else involved.
darth sardonic
Labels: anger is a gift, ranting is good for the heart, sanity is for the weak-minded, the cove
5 Comments:
amen sister! wait....
Hi Darth,
1)I don't remember last time my house was spotless. Probably before I had the kids...
2)I left the the sink full of dishes this morning.
3)the clean laundry sometimes stays the whole week in the baskets and never makes it to the closet.
You guys are doing fine. This is really nice of you to handle everything while your wife is taking a break.
Take care.
Sandrine
PS: You might want to say something about the dad getting too rough.
lol kells, welcome. you're likely to get added to my pals list, just so you know. unless of course you have something against that
sandrine-ty, i know, just needed to rant it off my chest, and i also ranted a bit to my wife, n she says, "you know I don't care" so all good now. we have all mentioned to him at one point or another that maybe he is too rough. and under sober situations, he isn't rough at all. but when he has been drinking he forgets himself a bit.
Oh, people and their high horses... When they'd need a cavalry to help them deal with their own fucking mess.
krissie, exactly
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