I don't know where to start. There are no "beginnings" to the bullshit I deal with each evening.
I called Bill as I was leaving work to see if he had ideas for dinner. I was expecting to cook, but he wanted to eat out. Okay. I can do that. So I told him I'd wait at home and he said he'd be a little bit longer.
I went home and jockeyed for pole position in the laundry room. I swear that the next Olympics should have community laundry as a competitive sport. I had to cut off some poor kid who's mother sent him down to the laundry room with an empty laundry basket. (to "reserve" the washer? IDK) It was still early enough in the evening that I didn't worry that they'd be able to get some laundry done ...... after me.
So I did the back and forth checking on the laundry as it progressed from washer to dryer. I did some house chores in between. I've gotten in the habit of putting my cell phone in the bathroom. It's become the most conventient for charging them and since the apartment is so small it's not like you can miss hearing it ....... unless you're not in the apartment.
Which is probably what happened when Bill called on his way home. Most likely I was feeding the dryer quarters or checking it to see if it was dry. I did have both house fans going trying to suck in some cool air into apartment, so that and the TV could have drowned out the ringer. Again, IDK. In any case, he was his usually snippy and angry self when he came home. Stomping around, not talking, etc.
I asked why he was being snippy and he said something snotty about not answering my phone. Huh? I had no idea. I had waited for him to come home to get dinner and he rushed out the door leaving me to decide whether to flurry into presentable clothes and try to catch him or not. Being the moron I am, I flurried. I see now that was probably not something I will do again.
Instead of going to get food, he decided to get in the death march before it got too late. We glared at each other as we walked up and down the hill. He cut my walk short, giving me the option to get in the car or walk home. (home being 3-4 miles) We drove to Jack in the Box and got in line for the drive through. He knows I cannot eat that crap on my diet.
When he got to the menu to order he ordered a couple of burgers for himself and two egg rolls. I'm not sure why, but the poor soul making minimum wage could not get the order right. He tried to rush Bill to the window, and of course that made him dig in an hold up the line. A second soul tried to get the order right, and Bill in true Bill fashion increased the difficulty level of the situation by adding something on. After what seemed like an eternity they finally got it right. I tried to suggest that instead of giving his entire order less one item and then adding the item that perhaps he should try giving them the whole order.
By the time I said that he turned to me and in front of the window person said "Shut the hell up Bitch!"
I will never accept that kind of language. I called him an asshole and got out of the car. I walked the 1 to 1 1/2 miles home in the dark. After about 1/2 mile I found it kind of pleasant walking in the cool air. There was plenty of light and people so I wasn't worried about be accosted. I enjoyed not being with Bill. I even stopped to pick up a really trashy novel at the drugstore on the way home figuring I'd be spending most of the rest of the evening in the bedroom. I was a little surprised at how calm I felt given the circumstances.
When I got home I stopped to fold the laundry out of the dryer before coming into the apartment. I went straight to the room and locked the door. Turned on the fan and read a few chapters of the book. Bill asked me "How was your walk?" trying to bait me into arguing, but by now I just didn't care so I didn't answer.
He slept on the couch last night. I had a pleasant if warm evening with plenty of room to stretch out. I'm not the least concerned about making an effort to patch things up.
I'm not sure how the weekend will go. I hope he can get his shit together, but if not I'm not going to sweat it. I can take care of myself just fine.
