Grizzle, moan, whinge
Grouching and carping are, as behaviours, probably de rigueur among those in the throws of a marriage spiralling slowly (is this actually slo mo) towards separation and divorce.
So I am going to have a grizzle, moan or whinge...
I got up at the same time as him this morning, to make sure he got out of the house reasonably close to the time he needed to get out of the house to start work approximately on time. Then I washed and dressed and got the offspring up and put on a load of washing and did breakfast, school lunch, signed the paper work she needs for school, helped her dress, got her to school (approximately on time) came home, got the washing out and hung up, did some cleaning and tidying up, worked a bit, got ready for work up the road, worked from 1 in the afternoon to 9 in the evening, came home expecting to find him ready to prepare a (simple) meal.
I found evidence that he'd been drinking on the low brick fence dividing our front yard from that of the next door neighbors. Inside, not a sign or a sound. Eventually I tracked him down to his bed upstairs, sound asleep and snoring his head off. I said goodnight to the baby who was still awake and woke him up to tell him to get into bed - he was sprawled across the bed in his clothes.
On the hob some dried out pasta sauce and, in an adjoining pot of hot water some very, very not al dente spaghetti. Delicious, not!
Yes yes, back to sleep and on and on.
Back down stairs impatiently.
Finally the fat fuck has came downstairs, farted around ineffectually for enough minutes to have me climbing the walls and finally, when he was confident that I'd been agitated beyond bearing he stepped outside to smoke a last cigarette. That took him fifteen minutes. Now, at last, he has wandered upstairs; hopefully I won't see him again.
Ah, peace at last, indeed.
So I am going to have a grizzle, moan or whinge...
I got up at the same time as him this morning, to make sure he got out of the house reasonably close to the time he needed to get out of the house to start work approximately on time. Then I washed and dressed and got the offspring up and put on a load of washing and did breakfast, school lunch, signed the paper work she needs for school, helped her dress, got her to school (approximately on time) came home, got the washing out and hung up, did some cleaning and tidying up, worked a bit, got ready for work up the road, worked from 1 in the afternoon to 9 in the evening, came home expecting to find him ready to prepare a (simple) meal.
I found evidence that he'd been drinking on the low brick fence dividing our front yard from that of the next door neighbors. Inside, not a sign or a sound. Eventually I tracked him down to his bed upstairs, sound asleep and snoring his head off. I said goodnight to the baby who was still awake and woke him up to tell him to get into bed - he was sprawled across the bed in his clothes.
On the hob some dried out pasta sauce and, in an adjoining pot of hot water some very, very not al dente spaghetti. Delicious, not!
Yes yes, back to sleep and on and on.
Back down stairs impatiently.
Finally the fat fuck has came downstairs, farted around ineffectually for enough minutes to have me climbing the walls and finally, when he was confident that I'd been agitated beyond bearing he stepped outside to smoke a last cigarette. That took him fifteen minutes. Now, at last, he has wandered upstairs; hopefully I won't see him again.
Ah, peace at last, indeed.
posted by Enyo @ 10:07 pm
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