This whole week has been one annoying fucking thing after another.
Monday, my darling husband came home bruised and scratched. Seriously. This week he’s in an instructor’s course where they are all kicking each other’s asses in order to better subdue unpleasant people. They are holding nothing back during training, except for actual weapons I guess. At least he hasn’t come home stabbed or shot yet.
On Tuesday night, I griped at that lazy fucker of a husband, told him to start bringing the large mountain of laundry he’d been collecting on top of the dryer. Beaten down or not, he still is responsible for the occasional light household chore or two. Being, as I said, a lazy fucker, he thought it best to wad up the mountain of laundry and try to squeeze it all through the laundry room door at once. He couldn’t see over or around it, of course- and upon exiting the laundry room he promptly knocked over an old lava lamp that I’d been telling him to take out to the dumpster for the past month or so. Do you know what’s in a lava lamp? I don’t- but whatever it is, it is oily, doesn’t smell nice, and is a real bitch to clean off a tile floor. There’s still an oily residue.
At some point on Monday or Tuesday, lazybones mentioned that the company party on Friday is mandatory. I think that was when the top of my head blew off. I am still hunting for it.
Yesterday, I took the kids out to play-group and they were fairly delightful. However, one of the other kids had a snot nose going, so I expect my own precious rugrats will be sick by the weekend.
I was going to hit the shopette for some milk (which lazy was supposed to bring home after formation, and “forgot”), but they didn’t open until much later, so I had to bring the kids right home. Upon my return, I decided I was tired of tripping over hubby’s 40 pound ruck and his patrol bag, so I proceeded to open up the front closet where his Army-stuff is supposed to be stowed. Ohhh. No wonder the ruck and the patrol bag were out! He can’t possibly put them inside when he’s stashed a bunch of boxes in there- boxes which I told him needed to be disposed of. One box that my pink boots came in. The pink boots I bought around the time little George was born. Over a year ago. He was hoarding trash- boxes of boxes, because he doesn’t want to take them to the next block to dump them in the cardboard box dumpster.
At this point, the remnants of my head exploded in a barrage of swearing (that my boy did not repeat, luckily). I dragged out several boxes, a broken clothes-drying rack (I told him to dispose of that about six months ago, I’d guess), numerous bits of paper and broken rubber bands, a plastic AAFES bag with a honey bun in it (at least it wasn’t opened- he doesn’t collect stinky garbage, just kindling), mud-crusted boots, assorted leaves and twigs, another ruck, and some spare PT shoes that haven’t seen daylight in a few months.
I cleaned the whole fucking closet and finished assembling the wire racks that were laying in pieces on the floor. I sorted his Army-stuff some, shoved his 600-lb duffel bag against the improperly-repackaged christmas tree to keep it from falling all over, and miraculously fit all the crap that had been sitting by my door back into the closet where it belongs. Even got the spare stroller in there.
All the crap that he refused to dispose of got thrown into the downstairs bathroom, because that is the place where he gets ready for work in the morning. Inconvenience me? I’ll inconvenience you!!!
He did fax my paperwork to the IRR people during his lunch break.
Today I tried to email my contact there last night to make sure they got the fax. Out of office all week. Emailed the guy he’d told me to CC in the event he wasn’t in. Out of office all week. Emailed the guy his auto-response indicated. Hope he shows up for work today.
Lazy didn’t take out any of the crap last night, by the way. He said he was going to get it once it got dark (and cool) outside, but he played video games instead.
It’s all my fault, though. I am sure it is.
I have to go figure out what dish I will be bringing to this stupid party bullshit tomorrow. I do have one friend in the company, at least, so maybe I can chit chat with her a bit. Or maybe I can find the people who have been kicking the crap out of my husband all week long and thank them.
