Monday, March 16, 2009

Brain-splody goodness!

First off: Sleep deprived like a motherfucker. Oh god, I'm so damned tired it ain't funny. I can't get comfortable and I can't stay asleep, and every time I roll over in bed, I have to lay there for a few minutes just trying to steady my breathing.

I hate being pregnant. Whine, bitch, moan. Okay, let's get on with it.

Secondly: Earworms.


Thirdly: Redhead.

Yeah, admit it, you were waiting for this.

I have a couple of points that have irritated me this weekend. What else is new, huh? Yeah. He doesn't seem to realize that he no longer lives by himself, and he has to clean up after himself. Especially considering we've reached the home stretch, and I'm approximately ten weeks away from my due date.

The pressure's on, biatch!

For instance, I cooked Saturday night. Whoo. Snarky's being domestic. Be very afraid. Nothing fancy, but I made up a meal. When I first started cooking, I asked him if he would do the dishes, since I was cooking, and I had been doing all the cleaning here as of late. Which is ridiculous, considering all of the mess is his. Overflowing ashtrays, candy wrappers, soda cans everywhere. Ugh.

He said he would do the dishes. I was happy with this. So, I cooked, we ate, we watched House, MD (who is still the biggest bad ass out there, no liez). He got up after a while and walked down the hall to the kitchen, and I asked if he was gonna do dishes.

"I'll get to them, don't worry."

I'm glad he at least remembered to put the leftovers in the fridge. That's a small perk.

As usual, I crawled off to bed before he did, of course reminding him to do the dishes before they got funky.

Woke up Sunday. No dishes. Not surprised. Washed a bowl and had some cereal and a bagel. Yumz. Sat down and watched some more House.

He crawled out of bed around 1 in the afternoon, and did precisely jack shit all day. I reminded him, again, later in the afternoon: Dishes. They needz washing. "I'll get to them, don't worry."

I'm starting to sense a pattern.

Dishes still ain't done this morning when I woke up. He's already gone off to work. I told him last night before I went to bed: "If those dishes aren't done by the time I go to bed tomorrow, we are going to have some serious issues." He just kind of giggled at me. He doesn't think I'll go off on something as silly as DISHES. Maybe I should remind him of why we had to buy a new set of dishes. Because when I first moved in with him, his dishes had been sitting in his sink at his old place so long they were caked with something slimy and black, and I wasn't going to touch them.

Anyway. And his "cleaning" essentially is cleaning off the coffee table. Dump the ashtrays, throw trash away, then sit down and watch some MASH. Grrr.

Yesterday at some point, we were just listening to music and talking random nonsense as usual, joking about something. I don't even remember what it was, but all of a sudden, he commented, "If you don't like the way I do it, there's the door."

Woah. Halt. Back up. Excuse me?

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't my name on this lease? Aren't the utilities in my name? Didn't my mother sign a guarantee saying that if we didn't pay rent, she'd pick up the slack? Didn't I find this place, at the very least?

Don't even joke with a threat like that. Because if I leave, for ANY reason, I'll take the utilities with me. And he can't turn them on in his name, because he owes the light company close to $800. Um. No.

"I've lived without lights and hot water and gas before. If all else fails, I'm sure my sister will let me go down to her place to shower."

Yes. Because that's TOTALLY the way to live.

If anybody leaves this place, it won't be me.

I don't know why his little comment pissed me off so much, but I ended up spending the afternoon holed up in the bedroom with the laptop and giving him a cold shoulder. I was NOT happy, even with a jokingly-made threat like that.

It's time to straighten up and fly right, boy. Life is about to make a BIG god damned change, and I don't care WHAT you want to do, whether it be get stoned or go drinking with your buddies. Baby is gonna come first, and I will be god DAMNED if you continue to act like this.

And I don't want to hear a word of "She's trying to change me like a typical woman does!" No. I'm trying to make sure my child is properly taken care of, and if you can't do it, or you have a problem with GROWING UP, well... There's the door. Don't let it hit you on the ass on your way out.

I'm not taking the bullshit anymore. I've been taking it too long and waited long enough. Some changes are going to be made.

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