The Clock is Ticking…

It’s 10.42 on Sunday night.  In the old days, the Squeeze and I would look at one another at the conclusion of a movie and mutually just kind of gravitate to the bedroom.  Usually, it would start with me having shower number 2 for the day.  I can’t help it; it’s not about being a clean freak.  It’s about feeling nice before you go to bed.

Anyhow... I regress.  Since not long after being here in this house; I have noticed that I now go to bed on my own.  The Squeeze comes in when I’m asleep.  If I’m awake, he will put laptop on and jiggle earphones until I feel as though I don’t exist.

I’ve been through enough downward spiral of relationships; so many I could write pretty good commentary on it.  He’s no rocket scientist – the messages one gives are loud and clear; and I’m pretty certain I’m putting out the same signal - just as easily.

When cleaning this weekend, I bought down the basket of hygiene goodies I purchased when we moved here.  Deodorant; anti  dandruff shampoo…  Tea tree oil for the acne.  I suggested as summer is fast approaching (it was the high 20’s here today) that maybe the Squeeze should instruct the kid on using deodorant.

I bought it down because the one inch of dust on the basket and deodorant would circumvent the argument of “but he does use it.”

Still, we managed to argue over the toilet brush in the upstairs loo.  We’ve had to lecture the kid who has been dragged up by some slovenly cow, that when you go to the loo for number 2 – use the freaking brush and white king and leave it in a reasonable condition for the next person.  After repeated requests, he has used the brush however, has scrapped his crap from the bowl and then shoved it back in the holder – so both were smeared with poo.

I looked.  Gagged then promptly told the Squeeze that he needed to go purchase another.

Of course we argued over it.   According to the Squeeze, it was only a little bit of shit encrusted on my brush and holder – so what was the drama..?  I was (as usual) just making a mountain of a mole hill.  I do that a lot apparently.  Make a mountain out of someone leaving shit on the brush… Snot on the wall… Not washing their hands after holding their dick and then going to my fridge…  Not washing their hair and having it stink out the house or cause me to gag with the grease and dandruff… the list of my “issues” is endless really.

We don’t even discuss the fact that every single thing he promised prior to me moving; has gone by the wayside.  We discussed his “lying” today however, it was just another ‘in my face’ lie of how he is not a liar.  He was just mistaken in his answer to me.  Forgot one of the three lines she sent saying my house was none of my business.  But - I’m a spy.  Yes… A spy.  And I’m a spy when we argue about poo.  Or anything really.  It all turns around to be about me.

I kind of figure I’m a spy because he is a liar.  Seems reasonable to me actually.  If you are a liar - I'm going to find out the truth.  And I don’t see that changing.  And I don’t want to spy – it takes too much energy.  So I think I’ll just scream at the poo kid when he does the wrong thing, and not give an inch when she wants to change things.  And not care what she calls him.

As for the Squeeze – well I dare say he has coming to him what he deserves a ‘not quite right’ kid that creeps everyone out… an ex-wife that wishes him dead and a bunch of kids that couldn’t give a hoot about him.  He had his chance to change things….  But was too ball-less to take it.

At the moment, I am just trying to ensure I’m ready to be free come April.  On nights like tonight, it can't come fast enough.