I told a co-worker in a joking manner, that "God doesn't give us anymore than we can handle." and I was told I was absolutely wrong. He was a monk....so he had a kind of learning about God and religion that I did not.
Then I come home, and everything just falls apart into a pile of utter crap. I won't go into details, because with my married life...to an extent...I feel airing dirty laundry just doesn't do a damn bit of good.
Now I must ponder on whether or not what Bill said I am is true. That all I do is think of myself...come up with things for us to do to make ME happy...that I'm self-righteous.
I wish I didn't feel hurt. I wish I didn't feel self-doubt. Last weekend wasn't a good weekend-he was ill and basically took it out on me. Every time I opened my mouth he was on the defensive (and for no reason)...so it felt like I couldn't even ask a basic question without getting ragged on. Eventually I got so sick of his attitude I told him I was going to make him some fucking chicken soup, and he'd fucking eat it, and fucking shut up. I was at my wits end....I was tired of being talked to in such a manner, and I wasn't feeling good, either.
Maybe my expectations are too high. Maybe I am a bad person. Maybe I shouldn't try to find ways for Bill and I to be away from the t.v. and laptop computers. What's the point? It'll all end up in my face at a later date, anyways.
I need to go to LaCrosse and get some cat litter...and I'm going to have to do it myself. Bill is going to not be available on my next Saturday off (which is also vacation). If my dentist appointment doesn't take too long I might just try going tomorrow. Otherwise my plan is to go on Sunday....after grocery shopping. My desire to spend much time in the same quarters as him is very low.