Dept of bitching and moaning

These are things I was used to that I no longer have to deal with, so each annoyance is like a poke in the eye. I am missing the northern lights and solar eclipse for this shit.

Complaints:

30 years of telling this man about bacteria and how we do not wash smelly kitchen rags and floor-cleaning towels with our daily laundry because bacteria in our underwear is fucking gross, and yesterday he threw the wet floor towel (an old grungy beige towel I use after scrubbing/mopping the cat shit off the bathroom floor) into a load of laundry WITH MY WORK CLOTHES. And then left it wet in the washer overnight. I opened the machine up, looking for my pants, and burst into flames.

He ate all the yogurt. And the cottage cheese.

He ate the piece of chocolate I was saving.

He makes himself smoothies twice a day but doesn’t have lunch or breakfast foods for the kids.

He unplugs my devices to charge his own.

He trimmed the tree and left a huge pile of branches on the patio to dry out and be a fire hazard. Again. Right next to the wood chipper.

I’m sure he’s doing good things, too, but I can’t see it. He annoys me even when he isn’t doing anything wrong. It was fine when he visited my place, but over here I want to kick him in the face every time I look at him.

Meanwhile:

The neighbors had a huge party in our shared driveway, with tents and screaming kids and cars parked everywhere. Even when they’re not partying, the noise is constant; traffic, military planes, helicopters, blasting car stereos, roosters crowing, people yelling, balls bouncing in the street. The windows are just screens and louvres, you can’t shut the sound out, there is no escape anywhere.

It is hot and everything is damp. Dust settles and turns to black grime. I washed the crud off the louvres and scraped black clusters of cockroach egg casings out of the rails.

Broke up a fight between two library homeless guys who both wanted me to call the cops because they claimed the other one was threatening to chop their head off. 

Had to shut down my blog because I suddenly got hit with THOUSANDS of bots. Wtf, nobody needs to farm this content. There is no plot resolution here. It’s the tale of a woman who takes three decades to finally get away from her cheating husband and then comes back to visit and scrub the floor anyway. It’s a bad story. I’m rewriting the second half of it.

West Jet has a “no pets on flights out of Hawaii” policy and I can’t take Billy back with me. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to—it’s a long trip with a bad cat—but having the decision made for me makes me feel mutinous.

My anxiety is up in my neck. I want to go home. I deal with stress by cleaning and baking, and hell if I want to reward this man with a clean house and cookies. I’m doing it anyway though, because I love my kids.

Weight lost so far: 10lbs.