Friday, January 21, 2011
Last of the Holiday...
I threw on a black dress and slunk off for an interview this morning. Part of my “let’s change the life” mantra. No idea how it went but if I got it, it would certainly be a part of the great life shakeup. How did I go? Standard question that I want to reply “how the hell would I know?” Felt ok, but the person after me may have blinded them with charm and let’s face it; charm is not exactly my forte.
What sucked about this interview is that today is the last official day of my holidays and I was up at 7.30 am. Where the hell did three weeks go? And what do we have to show for it? I don’t feel well rested and less stressed. Aren’t I supposed to feel tanned, rested and on top of the world..?
Ahhh, but there is a reason I’m more stressed. It would seem that the Squeeze in his infinite wisdom has it all worked out. I’ll pause to point out here that this is an idiot that can’t work out how to get the universal remote working. The concept of romance would reduce him to tears… If he even knew what it meant. His idea of shocking people to cover shyness is one thing I could perhaps forgive however, introducing me as his ward.. A 12 year old girl name Heidi just takes it that one step too far.
So, here we have a self-centred, relatively short (I know that is nothing to do with it; I just thought I’d throw it in to piss him off) emotional puddle that basically figures he can enlighten me on why I regularly feel like stabbing him. Well… I was ready. I’m always ready for a laugh!
And I have to say, it was quite enlightening. Lucky for him we were out at lunch because I’d prefer no witnesses when I ‘grab me a shovel and a bag of lime…’
So he starts telling me that I actually go out of my way to acquire stress. I create stress… Just flit off and look for it! Generate it out of absolutely nothing. I focus on problems and issues instead of just ‘letting them ride’.
Hmm, I’m pretty certain the old ‘let it ride’ attitude would go out the window if our roles were reversed. If he had to deal with the array of crap I deal with regularly, he would have up and moodled off by now because without a doubt, it would have been far too hard for him.
Still, as reality and sanity prevail I realise that short of hiring some guy to stalk me, walk through my house early in the mornings like he owns it, send insulting messages, stuff up my plans; suck money out of my bank account at will… Demand more money… Well he’s just not going to be able to see my side.
And the reality is that he chooses not to see my side; to see it, means he would have to deal with it. And dealing with it..? Well… Suffice to say that is a whole other nut doctor session that he has to line up for. However it went something along the lines of “keeping the peace and not wanting to upset people”.
WTF? So we don’t change anything so that we don’t upset the Harridan..? (because we all know she is the ‘people’) Well hell, maybe it is time he thought about not upsetting me for a change; if nothing else, surely fear should dictate that bit of common sense to him. I see him far more often than her; the odds of me stabbing the idiot are far higher than her doing it.
What can you do other than shake your head..? So I fiddle with my phone so I don’t have to actually speak to him and we stopped at the market to shop for dinner. I’ve walked from the tram; I’m wearing high heels and a little black dress. Its 32 freaking degrees and my feet a hurting; sweat is rolling down my back but we have to pause to hover when we reach the meat section. Why? He needs to put in a call to number one son to find out if he is in for dinner. You know, the son that doesn’t live at home anymore but I see more now than when he did?
Yes, of course he is in for dinner again. Cha ching, the meat bill just jumped from 12 to 34 bucks. I did pause to point out that aside from the cost, it would be nice to have some “us” time; but the fool that I date doesn’t understand things like quality time or romance. Why on earth would we wish to have sex in the kitchen..? And if he doesn’t understand those things, well hell, the art of conversation is totally beyond him.
Over lunch he so lovingly points out the reason why we have issues is because I have an inability to turn the other cheek, turn off, and turn it down, blah blah. Deflection I say. Because we all know if he could shut down the issue of the harridan, our lives would be almost perfect (well aside from the romantic aspect… and maybe the money aspect…)
I managed to launch into an speech to say that I can understand caving in on stuff; giving more than required – but I sure as hell want something for it! He gets to roll over, cave, but still pay through the nose and be told that he is the lowest scum on earth.
You may ask why anyone would do that. God knows. That is question that makes me lose my cool.
Anyway, we are driving along and I am discussing this, pausing every so often for his input and getting the odd grunt. Not sure why I bother really. We’ve had this same discussion 54 times without his input. Hell, his chair could recite this conversation back to me, but not the squeeze. He doesn’t quite get it. After ten or so minutes, I turned and say “you know this is a conversation! Input by two people is usually required!” To which he replied “this isn’t a conversation; it’s just you telling me what to do!”
Talk about flabbergasted! So now I can’t even discuss things..?
He is a shallow muppet and can’t actually hold a decent conversation; can’t discuss things, then my continuation of the discussion – becomes a TELLING!!!????
I’m still speechless by the time we get home and he glances into the spare bedroom. It was the gasp that put me on alert. Now I’ve got to say, if he is going to gasp over the appearance of a room it has to be bad and I of course, wanted to have a laugh! When I looked in at the mattress on floor, clothes strewn about the carpet; well, I think my eyes started to bleed… The only thing it was missing was the cardboard box and a shopping trolley.
I decided against cleaning anything and slunk off to blog. We are thinking to move in together in March. I can shut up for that long can’t I..? It’s only two freaking months…
But I have pointed out that this living arrangement will sure as hell not be happening when we are together!!! If he wants a home away from rental – go stay with the harridan!
Posted by Mistress at 6:15 PM