Monday Night Bitch

The weekend didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped...hubby and I went to the Mink Eye to get Pink Eyed, and damned if not a single one of my homies showed up! Not ONE. Dana was supposed to go and in actuality planned to bring her hubby with her, but didn't make it. The boss was out of town on a business something-or-other and couldn't make it, and neither did another one who said she'd try. Dammit. Just ruined my whole weekend, as I spent most of the night and the next day quite worried that maybe I'd said or done something to piss someone everyone off, in addition to the requesite bitch session I listen to on a regular basis from hubby. (No, this weekend was no exception.)

So, as I was saying, the arguing continued this weekend without fail. I offered my endless opinion on his employment situation - or lack of - and he asked if I wanted a divorce.

Jesus.

No, I just want you to get a FUCKING JOB. No, you aren't expected to produce a job, immediately, out of thin air, but you are expected to try. No, looking online is not sufficient! You don't enjoy the fact that you are rejected? Welcome to the world and join the crowd, Skippy. Neither does anyone else, but that doesn't mean they stop trying. A little agorophobic? Well, maybe. But, why isn't your ass glued to the LaZBoy when it's time for Friday night drinks at the pub?

Seriously - am I asking too much?? Really honey, I do love you dearly but after 7 months of this, I'm feeling a little tired, unappreciated, tired, a little used, beyond broke, and incredibly worn down.

And tired.