Mad at the World: The Continuing Saga

I contemplated the word saga and whether to replace it with a derivation using -suck- as a base, but decided against it because I couldn’t figure out how to make it make sense.  Which sucks for the word suck.  Mrs M and young master M have returned from their foray into darkness, aka a trip to see my inlaws, and I’m faking it like hell today.  Or I wouldn’t be writing anything.  I called the doctor about medications and I’m waiting to see if I can get the pharmacy to give them to me without a $20 copay to the doctor and then another copay to the pharmacy and then whatever extra over-the-top expense the insurance company doesn’t feel like paying after I already feel twice-plundered.

I’m exhausted, with another 3 hours of work ahead for work, and then whatever lovely labors I can accomplish under Mrs M’s thumb, which sounds a lot better than it feels.  For some reason she thinks I should drop whatever I’m doing (which is nothing) and wash her dishes immediately, so she was frustrated I didn’t wash them last night after 10:30.  I got tired and fell asleep and washed them today after she left for work, but that doesn’t undo the frustration she felt, ever ever ever, because I should do it now, now being whenever she says it needs to be done.

In short, she wants a robot that obeys, not a guy who wants a loving and reciprocal relationship.  If she had a robot that obeyed, she’d be better off.  Just like I’d be better off if the computer at the bank fell for me.  Robots are never exhausted, and they do as they are told.  I’m only assuming a computer at the bank would be rich, but it’s probably equipped with a damned AI Conscience, the prime directive being, make sure Deon never has what he needs and disallow any transfer of funds that might be deemed questionable.

She on the other hand would be better off with a compliant robot.  Her dishes would be done, her trash would be out, her recycling likewise, he could be programmed to fix shit and repair shit with precision, and any need for physical pleasure would be satisfied or she could just reboot and start the cycle for another run.  And her robot could go to work for her and make money better than her human companion.  He could work 24/7 with no need for breaks or distractions.  Except I hear her subconscious saying, “Where’s the fun in not having someone whose buttons I can push and watch for emotional output and overload?  This is so much more fun.”

She’s back, and already frustrated that I didn’t wash the dishes last night and then fall exhausted into bed without any thought of expectations of her.  I wonder whether I’d get what I wanted if I were able to muster the energy to do what she wanted right when she wanted.  The result would IMHO be the same, she’s frustrated because she doesn’t want to do that or too tired, or both, there would be a disagreement, and I’d end up out of luck, still.  So I didn’t do the dishes right then.  Instead I fell asleep on the couch.  Happens a lot.  Sucks.  We’re both too tired, we both want what we want, and neither one of us is getting it.  Or willingly giving it I suppose  Which compounds interest daily which means I suppose I’m as in debt for emotional support as I feel she is.  Sucks, who is going to invest toward a repayment plan first?  Me, doing the dishes,  represents a penny where a dollar is needed to delay foreclosure by an angry accountant bitch, and I’m already tired at work and need to sleep, but…

I did the dishes this morning before work, and then looked outside to observe my grass needs mowing, which means my parents grass needs mowing more.  So tonight I’ll load the mower and go, and go again tomorrow on my day off work to get the shit done.

Good with bad, she sent me to the chiropractor last week and there’s nothing wrong with my back alignment for all the lifting.  So the chiropractor was nice, but I’d have been happier if the … oh there’s the other thing that’s stupid.  Recall I got frustrated when the automated voice said how sorry it was but the payment was declined?  Well it actually went through, according to the bank.  So I guess the people at our lovely ISP company (who, if they’re monitoring this transmission, are actually brilliant and beautiful, and if not monitoring, have an automated program that’s complete shit), for some accidental reason outside their control, had a system issue where they hit our bank for the money after telling me it wasn’t there, and got their damned money, and pissed me off more than I already was for no good reason.  That, so I’d have been happier if the money I wasted on a copay could have been invested in something alcoholic because that works as well as going to chiro did.

What I learned after going to the chiropractor is that, for some reason, I apparently need to relax and stretch.  Go figure, for a person whose life is cramped and stressful.  Which comes back around to Mrs M, who has the ability to provide certain direct assistance in the area of relaxation, but is too tired or unwilling.  Paradox, which again I tried to play-on-words with “sucks” and it didn’t work. I’ve never been more irritated at my ISP.  They made me mad for no reason and it was the automated system.  I’d be willing to bet that if I had demanded talking to some live human being instead of just hanging up after hearing the automated “fuck you,” they’d have tried to extract the money a second time.

I question all my decisions and motivations.  Except for the decision to be cynical and a bit bitter, which seems the most logical choice to make.  It would be nice if I got what I wanted, and it might undo a little of the bitter cramped stress of my life.  But the lottery’s not paying me yet, I have no time or energy or marginal space in which to metaphorically stretch, and my job, the lovely kids, and the lovelier Mrs M  aren’t delivering in the un-bittering or de-stressing areas, nor in the marginal spaces I’d like.

It seems to be the unfortunate, continuing saga of my life, which sucks.  That is to say, when I want it to not suck, it sucks.  Do I make it suck more by trying to get the kids to do chores or trying to encourage Mrs M to encourage me?  Not sure it’s worth the stress and aggravation.  She’s trying, but in ways that aren’t exactly what I think/feel/believe would work the best.  I hear everyone, that is to say, both readers, saying, you should communicate.  Yes.  I should.

Ab-suck-lutely.

That sucked.  But I tried.

Can’t have alcohol, which sucks, until after I wear myself ragged with mowing a good 3/4 of an acre with my push mower, or more, tonight. (because I have to drive over to mum’s.)  And, knowing I have scheduled the day off tomorrow for a mental health day, and she hasn’t, sucks.  I did it so I could finish things around the house(s), mums and ours.  What I want instead is a surprise party.  A party of two, for which there should be cake, and steak, and a nice wake-up, not in that order.

Instead, she’ll publish a list of things she would like to see accomplished, “since {I’m} not working…”  Which sucks, because after I finish not finishing the list, she’ll be disappointed and frustrated unless I throw my back out, which she’ll say I shouldn’t have and then do the comforting thing but not the rewarding thing.  And if I finish the list I’ll be too tired for the rewarding thing.  A steak would be nice though, if nothing else.  But I’d trade it for better things I can think of, worth far more than $10 or $20 a pound (who am I kidding?  I don’t want to pay more than $6 a pound for steak, and it better be good for that price!), and de-stressing far better than a forced copayment plus cost.