I think the partner is having pre-menstrual cramps at the moment … and whoever said men don’t have a menstruation cycle have never lived with a man for longer than a few months … they do … and its way worse than ours … JS.
Either that or he’s having one of those mid-life crises.
Every pay day is pretty much the same. Shopping, bills … hissy fit cos theres not enough money and another matching hissy fit cos no-ones appreciating what it is to do the ‘right thing’.
Does it help that I usually chip in at this point with:
“At least you have a payday …
“Would you like an award or some kind of mar degrade to celebrate the things women have been doing without a penny or so much as a fucking thank you card … for eons?
“You could always Not pay the power, rent, food …
“Maybe you should get another one of those bank loans you’re so fond of and go and buy some more crap you don’t use and pay back that bank loan over 3 years, with interest, just so you can have a little extra now and be paying back extra weekly for 3 years; thusly depleting your weekly income …
Hmmm. They never seem to go down very well.
But I am over it. And have been for awhile. And since I’m trying to manage myself and my shit, I do not have much time for self righteous grizzling.
You see. A. I don’t have an income. B. I don’t have any bills either, thanks to the job loss and bankruptcy. C. Oh, thanks to pts fucking (d). D. I paid everything, and I mean everything, for fucking years. E. I paid for everything for fucking years and paid for my daughter. F. That was my fucking job. G. There are no thank yous for that shit. It’s called being a fucking human, doing human fucking responsible shit.
So, yeah. Not much time or patience for the other shit.
Interestingly enough … we had a little convo last night about the ‘it’ll happen when it happens’ marriage – nearly 4 years in the making or waiting. He has a tendency to espouse that I am trying to tie him down … or what ever that concept is when you’re in your 40s.
It’s then, that I remind him:
A. You proposed to Me, not the other way round.
B. Actually, I couldn’t give a shit … Marriage is something You said You believe in. I don’t. But I agreed to it because I love you.
Apparently these are unwelcome truths also.
Do I care about getting married? Nope.
What is it I care about then?
Not being fucking lured into a false sense of security. Not being fucking lied too. Not being held hostage to something I never promised.
So … I wonder if We are drawing to a close.
It might be a sad thing. It might be a necessary thing.
Not sure really.
Watch this space.