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Day 10 and some whine w/o cheese
2004-09-01, 1:56 p.m.

Day 10 9/1/04

Happy September.

Boy, did I piss off the wife last night. She's the building secretary for a local high school. One of her job functions is calling substitutes for teachers that are sick, on vacation, off campus for sporting events, whatever. With only a week to go till school opens, she's already calling subs for known conflicts like teachers called up by the National Guard, meetings for the schools Athletic Director, declared vacations, etc. Well, I was having this whole system explained to me for the 4,718,932 time (since May). I don't know how I slipped, but I neglected to act sufficiently interested, impressed or awed by the utter significance of having to call a sub. Apparently, one must be told at least 4,718,934 times before one can be trusted to understand the significance of the fucking secretary doing her fucking job without the need to throw her a fucking parade because she managed to call a fucking sub. While she was fucking drunk. Again. Fucking a. (Well, there goes the PG-13 rating.)

So of course, she goes off, muttering something about "you don't want to hear about my job, you're not interested in what I do, it's not important to you if it's not about you . . ., yada, yada, yada . . . ." same line of crap I've heard 10,571,893 times. However, during any other evening, should I manage to wedge in a word about my job, how busy I am, how I'm trying to work through a bug, why I'm putting in 10 - 12 hour days at times, and she happens to pass out from the sheer boredom of listening to it, I'm supposed to take it and not be insulted. Of course, it helps her case that she doesn't understand a thing about what I do, but she's a secretary so, of course, I understand everything she has to do, I'm intensely interested by it, and it's all I want to hear about when I get home from work.

As long as I'm in full blown bitch mode, lemme get one last thing (or two) out there. Way back in the middle of August, when I told the wiff that I was taking this "quitting smoking" class and settting a quit date of 8/22, she was all interested and pleased and rah rah, going to do it with me. She also threw in how she'd stop having that drink (or 4) as soon as she got home from work almost every day. After running son #2 off to college 8/21, we agreed that we'd split one last pack of cigarettes for the evening of the 21st and however long they lasted on the 22nd.

Somehow, I was the only one of the two of us to agree to it. She's been smoking pretty much ever since, and the drinking hasn't slowed down at all. I'm getting really, really tired of putting up with her being drunk almost every night. She gets manic/depressive, aggressive, lashes out at everyone due to her own insecurities. Even the kids have it figured out. To top it off, she rarely, if ever, eats a reasonable dinner at a reasonable hour. We'll (I'll) finally cook something for the 2 of us, I'll cave in and eat by 8, by myself. She'll keep drinking, maybe have a grilled cheese at 9:30, then take an english muffin up to bed at 10:00.

Then she complains that she can't lose weight, even though she eats hardly anything at all. I point out to her that consuming 3000 calories worth of whiskey and ginger ale every night might offset even a celery only diet. Somehow, I get the impression that she thinks calories in drinks don't count if you can get a buzz from them.

Well, the quitting smoking is going fine for me. My current motivation is a line my wife rattled off last time she agreed that we'd quit smoking: "I could quit anytime. It's you (meaning me) that ruins it for me by caving in so soon." She'd end up taking some of my cigarettes after a failed quit attempt by me, and would of course end up smoking again, cursing my weakness for forcing her to smoke. I now have 10 days of quitting behind me, she can't get 10 hours. Love that motivation.

10 days down, 1 wife to go


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