I'm a raging hormonal b.i.t.c.h!
Posted
Monday, June 30, 2008 12:08 PM
Bitter, Insensitive, Temperamental, Cranky, Horrible
That's my new definition of a b.i.t.c.h and that's exactly what I've become.
I really can't help it, it's like a demon has totally taken over my former self. My poor husband is taking it all in stride, but you'd also think that because he knows this about me, he'd make a few changes to make both of our lives a lot simpler right now. Nope.
Instead he came home yesterday from Best Buy with a 42-inch flat screen LCD TV and then spent the rest of the day watching the race with his cousin Jeff who helped him bring home this expensive waste of electronics (in my opinion, of course since nothing was wrong with our not-broken 27-inch that this new beast replaced). Had he not promised me he'd fix about 15 things in our house that day, that he never did, I might not have minded too bad.
Then it's time to go to bed. I haven't seen him all day and I'm already irritated that he didn't fix the dryer door which refuses to stay open, and loading laundry into the dryer while also flinging the door back open every ten seconds is not fun. I see on our bed that some slimy bug looking thing is on my side of the bed. It probably came off one of our dogs when they went pee before bed. It could have been easily removed and I could have slept fine, but b.i.t.c.h needed new sheets immediately, even if it was 11:30 pm. So we changed the sheets. My husband knows I'm about to lose it, but he keeps his cool. You'd think that he would be aware of all his future actions of the night before crashing to keep evil wife away. You'd think.
Instead I wake up in the middle of the night with no sheets. I tried to pull some more over me, but they weren't budging. Apparently my husband got in bed in between the flat sheet and the comforter, so he was laying on the sheets I so desperately wanted more of. There I was at 2:30 in the morning punching my husband in the chest to get him to move over so I could yank the sheets out from under him.
Seriously, it's great that he's dealing with me without flying off the handle in rage at my immaturity and insistency on arguing, but keeping me sane at this point is to his greatest advantage. He really should try super hard to keep b.i.t.c.h at bay because it seems there is nothing I can do about her emergence, and anything he can do to keep me happy should certainly be attempted, that's all I'm saying.