We're finally settling in to our new home. While I can't say that I'm adjusted or even comfortable yet, I can say that it's getting better. The town we moved to is lovely, and feels more like home already than the last place ever did.
In my first week of funemployment (we moved for Mr. Buttcheeks' job), I spent every morning waiting for a contractor who told me "I'll be there at 8!" only to show up, consistently, around noon. EXCUSE ME SIR, I'M WASTING VALUABLE TIME WAITING FOR YOU THAT COULD HAVE BEEN SPENT BECOMING ONE WITH MY BED. There are still a few things to be fixed, but hopefully I won't see another goddamn contractor for at least a week.
Being the unemployed one in the house, all of the 'settling in' duties are falling to me. I don't mind too much, it's fun to decorate and plant things in the garden. But when he gets home and can't even be bothered to wash some goddamn dishes (we even have a dishwasher now so it's like, one pot!) I want to punch him in the throat. Instead of saying "Hey, jerkface, how about you contribute to this household and show some appreciation for the VERITABLE SWIMMING POOL OF FONDUE I made for dinner by washing some dishes," I just sit here and stew. At this moment he is in his office, swearing at his internet gaming friends, clicking like his goddamn life depends on it, and every click is like nails on a chalkboard. But I feel guilty! For wanting to say something! Because he worked all day and all I did was run around getting groceries and putting together shoe racks! To the point where I want to hand him his lunch tomorrow (BECAUSE I DO THAT NOW) and say the following:
But seriously, everything is going to be ok soon. I have two job interviews next week. I have at least 5 applications on the go. Soon I will have a life outside this house. And then I will have no excuse for making excuses for him to not do the dishes. Right?