My husband takes advantage of me. Last minute in the mornings while he's grabbing his keys on his way out the front door, "Oh, I need that paper cutter."
Me: "Ok, I'll see if I can find it today." (It's packed up in one of the gazillion boxes in the basement. Not an easy task)
Him - irritated tone: "But the promotion starts soon and I need to get these kits done and passed out or it's a waste of time if I'm not ready."
Me: DUH
Me - what I really said: "I understand that, but I have a full day of school and housework ahead of me. It's going to take time to find that and I can't be dropping our schedule like this every time I turn around. I need to get through school first before I have to go spend a couple of hours in the basement looking for a paper cutter. If I had known yesterday I could have looked for it after school and have it for you now when you want it."
Him: Whatever (all in the eyes)
It's not like I mind doing these things to help him out. It's not like I don't expect to have to help him. But I have school every day with Jake and believe you me it is difficult to stay on track. My laundry piles up, the dogs still need attention, training, feeding, in and out the door a hundred times a day between the 5 of them. I have litterboxes to scoop and most days I don't manage to get Jake a lunch much better than he'd have if he brown bagged in public school every day.
I did just recently go through several thousand receipts and sort them and enter totals on a spreadsheet. When he came home from work that night I asked him to do the juju on the spreadsheet that would automatically add the totals together and give me a grand total for each column. That's all I need, a total for cash paid outs in each department. He didn't. For four days he didn't 'have time' then the computer had a major major crash and all of it was lost. All that work, even the sorting (because I just piled them back into the box) is lost. So I told him I'd appreciate it if every evening he would come in and enter a stack to help me get through them again. "Sure" was the word but it was a no go in the action department. And this morning, after asking me to blink and make that paper cutter appear in an instant that I didn't have, he said on his way out the door, "Oh, and I need those tax receipt totals right away."
Some days I could just kick him in the you know's.
I know he has no more time to spare than I do. Even now as I type this, I'm working on the assignment I got when he called me from work earlier. I have 300 envelopes to print. Ten at a time. No bath or tv for me tonight. No sir. This promo is important stuff. And it is, but so is my sanity. And once these envelopes are done, I have to print the coupons that are going to be stuffed in the lopes. At least flat sheets of paper can be done 50 at a time without the constant reloading.
Sometimes I feel like I complain too much. I know how much work takes from him. I understand all too well how little of him it leaves. I like that I can do things to help. But I feel more like a secretary than wife. Not even a secretary having the great big secret affair with the boss. Lord knows it ain't like that. It's not like having a husband. Not like having a relationship beyond work related needs. I want to be married. I like being married, but dang if dating the boss wasn't a lot easier. At least I got paid then.
Ok so I'm a big fat whiner. I'm in a mood, I admit it. Today we made our official bid on the house and I'm a little wigged. Mostly because I know that in packing up this house, getting the new one ready to move into and doing the indoor repairs all fall to me. I'll be the one making runs to the bank, to pay this inspector or this surveyor, or this lawyer. I will do most all of it. On top of the regular schooling, animal stuff, housework, business paperwork, and promo packets. I will do it and to be honest, I think I've reached my limit. There, I've said it. I can handle no more and it worries me because, well, it can't get done if I don't do it because he sure doesn't have the time. Sometimes I think maybe I should have married a sex-starved, unmotivated, unemployment drawing bum. Nah, not really. I love my husband mucho lotsa. But it's difficult. Very difficult sometimes.
Me: "Ok, I'll see if I can find it today." (It's packed up in one of the gazillion boxes in the basement. Not an easy task)
Him - irritated tone: "But the promotion starts soon and I need to get these kits done and passed out or it's a waste of time if I'm not ready."
Me: DUH
Me - what I really said: "I understand that, but I have a full day of school and housework ahead of me. It's going to take time to find that and I can't be dropping our schedule like this every time I turn around. I need to get through school first before I have to go spend a couple of hours in the basement looking for a paper cutter. If I had known yesterday I could have looked for it after school and have it for you now when you want it."
Him: Whatever (all in the eyes)
It's not like I mind doing these things to help him out. It's not like I don't expect to have to help him. But I have school every day with Jake and believe you me it is difficult to stay on track. My laundry piles up, the dogs still need attention, training, feeding, in and out the door a hundred times a day between the 5 of them. I have litterboxes to scoop and most days I don't manage to get Jake a lunch much better than he'd have if he brown bagged in public school every day.
I did just recently go through several thousand receipts and sort them and enter totals on a spreadsheet. When he came home from work that night I asked him to do the juju on the spreadsheet that would automatically add the totals together and give me a grand total for each column. That's all I need, a total for cash paid outs in each department. He didn't. For four days he didn't 'have time' then the computer had a major major crash and all of it was lost. All that work, even the sorting (because I just piled them back into the box) is lost. So I told him I'd appreciate it if every evening he would come in and enter a stack to help me get through them again. "Sure" was the word but it was a no go in the action department. And this morning, after asking me to blink and make that paper cutter appear in an instant that I didn't have, he said on his way out the door, "Oh, and I need those tax receipt totals right away."
Some days I could just kick him in the you know's.
I know he has no more time to spare than I do. Even now as I type this, I'm working on the assignment I got when he called me from work earlier. I have 300 envelopes to print. Ten at a time. No bath or tv for me tonight. No sir. This promo is important stuff. And it is, but so is my sanity. And once these envelopes are done, I have to print the coupons that are going to be stuffed in the lopes. At least flat sheets of paper can be done 50 at a time without the constant reloading.
Sometimes I feel like I complain too much. I know how much work takes from him. I understand all too well how little of him it leaves. I like that I can do things to help. But I feel more like a secretary than wife. Not even a secretary having the great big secret affair with the boss. Lord knows it ain't like that. It's not like having a husband. Not like having a relationship beyond work related needs. I want to be married. I like being married, but dang if dating the boss wasn't a lot easier. At least I got paid then.
Ok so I'm a big fat whiner. I'm in a mood, I admit it. Today we made our official bid on the house and I'm a little wigged. Mostly because I know that in packing up this house, getting the new one ready to move into and doing the indoor repairs all fall to me. I'll be the one making runs to the bank, to pay this inspector or this surveyor, or this lawyer. I will do most all of it. On top of the regular schooling, animal stuff, housework, business paperwork, and promo packets. I will do it and to be honest, I think I've reached my limit. There, I've said it. I can handle no more and it worries me because, well, it can't get done if I don't do it because he sure doesn't have the time. Sometimes I think maybe I should have married a sex-starved, unmotivated, unemployment drawing bum. Nah, not really. I love my husband mucho lotsa. But it's difficult. Very difficult sometimes.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home