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Daily grind. December 2, 2008

Posted by Julie Momster in Uncategorized.
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Oh, the excitement that is my life.

Except………….. not.

Right about now, I am dying for some kind of adventure. A road trip, vacation… hell, I would settle for ANY trip out of Omaha.

I spend all day on the phone. Answer questions, log the call, and repeat until 10:50. One hour lunch. Back on the phones at 11:55, rinse and repeat, over and over, until 4:30 (unless I have the lucky break of a doctor’s appointment to hasten my escape time to either 3 or 3:30).

Which wouldn’t be so bad. But then I go home. And I clean up the apartment, whatever little things needs to be done: trash collected, dishes washed (thank GOD for a dishwasher!), tables cleaned off, an occasional vaccuuming. And then I wait for Mikey to come home. And then I get to spend the rest of the night tiptoeing around because he job has been retardedly demanding lately, and he’s stressed – which means he’s constantly cranky – which means he takes it out on me, should I be so unfortunate as to say a sentence in an offensive way (Sorry! sorry! I didn’t meant to ask how your day was! My bad!!), or to give him a hug, or offer to help him in any way.

I need to get out.

I’m now almost 33 weeks pregnant, and he’s being a bigger bitch than I am. Which (I thought) might possibly be just in my head, although it seemed a bit too frequent to be completely imagined. Then when approximately all 4 of the people hanging out at my apartment last night commented on it – the big one being that I just smiled and asked him for a high five, which resulted in the dirtiest look the man can offer – I realized that no, he’s just more hormonal than I am. Which is lame.

The only real problem being that since I am so damn pregnant, travel is damn near impossible. I don’t even have a CAR to get out of the damn house!! DAMN DAMN DAMN!

I just feel like I am going to lose my mind, and I can’t even let anyone know. Big secret, hush hush. God only knows what would happen if I were actually allowed to speak my mind – but every time I try to tell him what’s on my mind, or what’s wrong, he just tells me I’m being hormonal.

Dude. It’s not ‘just hormones’ if it’s something that pisses me off when I’m not knocked up. Such as getting mad at me when other people AND YOU are being loud as fuck in the apartment. Yes, it was very loud in there last night. But if he was paying attention, he would have noticed that I was deliberately trying not to be the one doing it. And yet I’m getting yelled at. It’s absurd.

Okay. End rant. Nose to the grindstone, and all that. Or maybe I’ll borrow a car and drive to some place warm. Hmmm…. definitely preferring option number 2….

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