I didn't want this to become a blog where all I do is bitch and moan but I can't help it, I need somewhere to vent or I might go crazy.
Oldest daughter did a tiny load of laundry today and I've spent the rest of the afternoon trying to undo the damage. First off, yesterday I had washed one of those really fluffy/fleecy Hello Kitty blankets and threw it in the dryer. It's one of those blankets where you dry it and your lint screen will be filled to overflowing just from one drying cycle. I had left that in the dryer and did another small load of darks and left them in the washing machine not thinking anything about it. Well, oldest daughter transfers all the dark clothes into the dryer without taking the Hello Kitty fleece blanket out and now all the darks are completely filled with all sorts of pink and white fluffs. I see that and have a minor fit but think, ok, I can deal with that. I'll just keep washing the stuff till it disappears. I set that whole mess aside and decide to just dry her stuff that's she's left in the washing machine. I transfer it all to the dryer and put another load of whites in to wash and walk away. About an hour later I go back to the machines and open the dryer and find that a black pen has exploded inside my dryer. All of her clothes have black ink all over them. All I can think is that she must have had a pen in with her wash and I transferred it when I put it in the dryer because none of our clothes are inked up and all I did was transfer the stuff from the washer to the dryer with no steps in between. So now I have a new dryer with all ink inside it and all her clothes with ink all over them too. Luckily the stuff she washed was mostly dark and stuff she wears to bed so I'm just not sweating that one at all. I refuse to feel bad about her things being ruined when her carelessness resulted in my dryer looking like someone had a paint party inside it.
You know, I have gotten really good at never getting attached to any material things because the minute I start feeling like I really value something material, it gets lost, broken, stolen or ruined. This is the story of my life. I take the losses or the breaks with ease because I know stuff is replaceable and that people are not, however, I am waiting for the time when I can have something of value and not have to watch someone else ruin it before I get the chance to ruin it myself if that's what the fates desire, and that has not happened so far. It's always them ruining my things and I'm getting sick of it. I have to always be the adult and take a deep breath and remember what's really important in life and I do all that while underneath it all I am simmering and getting ready to explode.
Hence, this blog.
Moving along. Yesterday I knew it would be a long day since my daughter had a sporting event. I hate when my husband is in town during these times because I can't just pack up and leave and enjoy myself knowing that he's at home waiting for me to FEED HIM. So I got up yesterday and made a meatloaf and mashed potatoes and some vegetables so that I wouldn't have to walk in the door at 8 PM (having been gone since 2 PM) and have to make something to eat. I don't like getting takeout during the week because my children are athletes and I think that it's better for them to have something home cooked rather than fast food. I had everything made and put in the refrigerator and it only needed to be heated up. How simple is that? Well, apparently not simple enough.
I come in the door last night at a little before 8 and I go to the refrigerator to heat plates up for me and my daughter and I noticed that none of the food is missing. I find this quite strange since my husband was home all day and he is typically a garbage disposal on two feet. I yelled to him, "Um...why haven't you eaten yet?" And his reply? "I was waiting for you to come home." Come again?
You really do not want to be around me when I am hungry and angry, let's start with that. I specifically told him when I left that he was to FEED HIMSELF because I knew I would not be in any mood for dealing with his chauvinistic ass at the end of a long day, but did he listen to me? No. I start going off because I am not nice when I am pushed and he has the nerve to tell me that the reason he didn't eat before I walked in the door was that "he wasn't hungry." But the minute I walked through the door, his hunger kicked in, and REALLY? OMG, sometimes I swear to you that if felt I could get away with it, I would grab my purse, get into my car, board the nearest plane and leave to anywhere but here.
Needless to say he ended up fixing his own plate so he's deceitfulness did not work on me like he had planned, but just so you know? This is how it works around here. They are working overtime to drive me crazy and sometimes I think they are actually winning.
Tonight I get a call from the husband because he did go out of town and he slips into the conversation that he's thinking about funding a little escapade this summer for our son who goes to college out of state. Don't get me wrong, I love that kid to death but basically he is living a Disneyland life where we pay for everything and he takes a few classes and plays a sport. This trip is a week long adventure to the tune of $1500. I go ballistic because this sort of thing is not promoting our children growing up and out of the house anytime soon from my perspective and I really get pissed when he doesn't mind dropping that kind of money on a week long funfest but has a fit if he sees that I've bought a People Magazine. I told him to just stop the conversation right there because I don't want to know about it. As far as I am concerned his college existence is a sort of vacation as he is on his own with no one to answer to and we pay for everything. I do not think it is necessary to fund more Disney experiences when the kid is in his 20's. Call me a bitch or a killjoy, I don't care. It's how I feel and I need to say it somewhere so I will say it here.
I know tomorrow I will probably be over all this but right now I just really, really want to run away from all of them.
I know where I would go, too but I'm not putting it in writing in case I do leave and they find this,
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