Cornholio

Tonight, Hubs was swinging the passive-agressive grumpy jerk attitude like a battle axe, and I just wouldn't tolerate it. He saves that one just for his family, so lucky fucky us. I suggested I could go hang with Mell until I was able to get disability approved, so i can get bariatric surgery and then, we could just get divorced. He says he doesn't want that . Then, constructive solutions were developed and it was better,  

He often doesn't ask what's going on with me and then doesn't understand, when all my spoons are gone if I tell him I can't do something,  he doesn't want to do, I get the passive-aggressive garbage. I'm over it. If I wanted to be in a relationship that I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, I could have stayed with any one of the abusive assholes in my multi-colored and checkered past.

As much time as he says he wants to hang out with me, he doesn't seem to care how I'm doing at all. It hurts my body,  my spirit and my heart because he is just choosing to not pay attention. 

Today, I got up with little sleep and drove a regular to work. I worked for a few hours and got one to the airport, which is very close-by home. I spent the afternoon with calls, emails, and assorted stuff. Mind you, I can barely walk, use stairs or move because of all the collective ow and the unending poo fest that is my butt, after the gastroenteritis hospital stay. 

I asked G to do the rest of my shopping today with said income. She said she wanted to shower after the gym, but then she could. Three hours later...Nada. I could have called, but she has been working on school projects, so guilt plowed in and her evasion worked. When she got asked to put the groceries away, she started with the tantrum and I simply said, hey ya blew off doing the one damned thing I really needed today, you can do this part of it. And I'm exhausted, so no energy to track her ass down and push the issue.

I said something about the shopping needing to get done to Mike and he grimaced with the face that means, "Fuck you for thinking that." Knowing the usual battle, passive aggression and all with his assorted BS, I had to go with him with everything hurting and my digestive track having me run in earnest for the past week. God forfend he could hold his own as a grown ass man at the Piggly Wiggly.

It often feels like daily, I'm dealing with a toddler, who is supposed to care about me. I know he's always been a bit autistic, though he thinks I'm on crack. (Just my butt crack.  Yes, I have a 12 year old sense of humor, so cope, OK?) But yes, very autistic.

I said, "Butt." (insert Beavis and Butthead laugh here)