Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Buckets Of Shit.

I'm having a bit of trouble sorting through which shit bucket belongs to me tonight. My husband has an uncanny ability to slosh his shit at me, get it all in my eyes and in my hair and make me reek of it so much that I start to help him carry it a little.

So I've been saying for months and months (this is not an exaggeration...I was doing some housekeeping around the blog, and I saw that I was OH SO DONE with letting him use my car in like March) that I was TOTALLY, FOR REALLY REAL done with letting him use my car. There are various reasons why I needed to be done: first, he sold his car for $100, which was stupid and for drug money. Second, he used the car I used to have to run around and get drugs, and when he owed his drug dealer nearly $400, he pulled "They know what your car looks like and they're violent" out of his little addicty magician cap...this was in the pre-Nar-Anon days, so it worked to make me do what he wanted, and I paid off the drug dealers. Third, every time I let him take the car, I fret about the car, the gas that he burns out of it at an alarming rate, his lack of ability to pay to fix anything he might break, his lack of respect for things that are mine, his remarkable knack for being late on the days when it's worst to be late and needing to pick me up from work early on days when it's awful to leave early...

So finally, I've stopped, really stopped, letting him take the car. I told him that if he needs a ride somewhere, I'll leave work and take him where he needs to go. Instead of listening to me and believing that I'd run him around to do all the stuff he needs to do to get his license, he has invited the Stray to spend another night with us so that they can ride around together on his fucking scooter to take care of things.

Part of me wants to say, "Great. I'm out of it. He'll take care of it. It's his business." But mostly, I want this dude out of my house. I want some quiet and sanity and to be able to walk around naked. I want to be able to go upstairs and play with my kitties without bumping into someone who thinks he lives up there.

So see, by making his stuff not my shit bucket, I get to live in a shit bucket. When we tried to talk about how I wanted the Stray to go away, he said, "Well, I have to be able to get a ride around tomorrow, and he'll give me a ride. I don't know how else I'd do it." As if I've been the kind of unreasonable bitch who wouldn't help him GET A FUCKING JOB.

The thing I want most in the world is for him to have his fucking job. I want him to go to work, really and truly, and for the job to be real, and him to really want it and do it right. I want him to go to work, every day, and come home at a normal time. If he can get that right, I think our marriage will be back on track.

He has this way of doing everything all crazy-ass...like when he was working, he'd just work 18 hour days 6 days a week, and then we'd never see each other, and he'd be miserable, high, and exhausted when he wasn't at work. Now, he won't work. I don't understand why he can't just find a job that he likes and work there 40 hours a week like normal people, come home, spend time with his wife and family, play with his dogs, eat dinner, watch the fucking news, and go to bed. I just want to live like people do. It can't be that hard. We have a wealth of intelligence, physical health and attractiveness, and talent between the two of us, but we can't even manage to get out of bed every day and act right. It's like each day takes a whole new figuring out how to live, and we get it wrong 75% of the time.

I'm exhausted.

6 comments:

April said...

Once he gets a job, or starts working his job, things will be a little better. Chris started his job about a month ago. I helped him get it, of course. Anyways. It is a little better. But I am finding that I still doubt things. "Why are the checks so low? Where are you going? When will you be back? Why do you need to go?" Pretty much everything. I don't really know what I am saying except the job gives us money. Gives him a purpose.

But it gives me more questions. At least without a job he was sitting at home all day and I knew what he was doing and not doing. So basically - the job helps. And it doesn't. Haha.

just another addict said...

Ya, sometimes when we set limits and boundaries with others, there are consequences to them -- and sometimes we forget that part, I think -- or maybe it's why we don't set them in the first fucking place.
I so, so remember this whole scene. I was using my gf's $40K vehicle to cop. She got pissed -- geez, I don't know why ;)--and then I just had people come and pick me up to cop and they were people she detested. The result -- she set another limit and said I had to get picked up by them somewhere ELSE.
In other words, Stray boy doesnt have to fricking stay overnight just to give someone a fricking ride on his fricking stupid scooter, right?
Sorry for the rant but I got pissed at your husband for this one. I know his game.
Love,
Scout

longvowels said...

Scout's right. He can come by in the morning or some shit. He does not need to be there all night. Ooh! Ima fuck the stray up!

Question said...

I agree. You should be able to pet the kitties in peace.

I think you are getting it more than 75% right, too.

Married to My Ex said...

Go with your guts on this. I smell shit and it shouldn't be where you live. Boundaries can be super, super confusing and the stray doesn't need to be hanging around like that. I had so many probs like this one in the past and if you can ever figure out what makes your hubby and mine think they are above the rat race and why they think "normal" sucks so bad, let me know. I still don't have that one nailed.

E. said...

This addictive behavior 101; Classic Manipulation. You wont let me borrow your car, I know you don't want my friend staying at the house, so I am going to have him stay and use him for a ride, ALL to get back at you for not giving me what I want.

Well, this is my exact thinking while reading your post. So I would say that none of this is your shit. G is playing a game with you, and you really should not take it. Do they have public transportation where you live? A bus? Say no to the stray, and for G to use his head to figure another way to get where he wants to go. If you giving him a ride isnt good enough for him, then this is his problem not yours, and a solution of using the stray should not be acceptable.

Did I miss something, what happened with him starting work? Was it supposed to be this Monday or next? Not trying to stir the shit, I was just curious. But don't let him manipulate you like that, it's not fair to you, especially since you ARE offering to help.