More will follow as I hash things out, but I pitched a world-class, shoe-throwing temper tantrum this morning all before coffee. Let me set the stage:
I spent yesterday cleaning the house. It was filthy and I was disgusted with the squalor. I cleaned for about 4-5 hours. Then after a quick dinner at a taco stand, I plopped in front of the tv. Time slid and I didn’t take a shower, so I crawled into bed smelly after dosing on the couch most of the night.
My sleep-deprived self was awaken by the Hunter merrily announcing that the Kracken had gotten some of my shoes and there was a “shoe graveyard” in the living room. WTF – I asked what shoes? The Hunter merrily responds that I should come & see for myself. Then he says, “let me grab my phone so I can record this”. Boy, he misjudged the situation.
I go to the living room and there are my 4-month old $70 sneakers, wet with the laces stripped off and the inner sole ripped out of one. My favorite pair of keds for around the house – one of them was completely destroyed. Second fave pair of keds chewed but salvageable. “You need to put your shoes away – you left them out and this is what happens,” the Hunter gleefully tells me.
I fucking popped a gasket. I begin screaming, “Fucking dog. I’m sick of this. I can’t have anything nice anymore”. Then the shoes begin flying around the house as I picked them up. I was very disappointed that they do not have the umpf and velocity of a baseball. I wanted to break shit.The Hunter went silent.
I decided then and there I needed to get the fuck out of the house. I took a shower got dressed and left. The Hunter had disappeared on a walk with the Kracken so I left a note. I turned off my phone because I was beyond livid and needed some space.
I’ve been out of the house all day – from 9-4. I have thought and written down my thoughts on why I got so mad. I have shed a few tears, and I’m still pissed but calmer. I walked in the door to the smell of cigar smoke permeating the house from the Hunter’s mancave aka garage, my dog had pooped by the back door and a swept patio (it was on my To Do list). I’m trying to take deep breaths and not lash out just to be hateful.
I am waiting for my bottle of wine to chill and then I’m going to have a Roommate Check discussion with the Hunter. I am not a happy camper about our living situation and aspects of our lifestyle. I now realize that I really miss my little townhouse and perhaps in my haste to please him last summer, I over-compensated resulting in me simmering with low grade resentment. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed — I just need my glass (or 2) of wine, put on my big girl panties and USE MY WORDS. More to follow.