My fault for not getting up on the first alarm ring to have enough time to finish my hair for work. On my way to work, I find a gigantic crack in my windshield from a rock that apparently did A LOT of damage that hit me on the freeway while I was on my way home from my therapy appointment. Once I walk into work, my boss comes in and tells me of a bunch of corrections I have to make on a shit-ton of letters I completed yesterday. It's driving me insane because the date of the letter is now 3 days old, and I still haven't sent them out because he wants to leave at noon everyday now, instead of coming back to work. After giving me those corrections, he keeps drilling me with other questions that he would know the answers to, had he been here for the whole day. I know I have it pretty damn good here, but being drilled with questions before I can even get my computer on irritates the shit out of me. Give me some time to organize my thoughts and details for the day. Then, my fucking phone is alerting me that someone has texted me in the midst of all his damn questions. I get irritated, pick up the phone to turn off the notifications, and it's my husband responding to my text about the crack in the windshield with 'What the Fuck'. That's fucking pleasant. Then my boss asks me if I am okay, and I told him that I am stressed out. He asks me why. I tell him that I am dealing with my husband being upset and myself being upset with the windshield being cracked. (never ending problems with that fucking car.) [Even though I really wanted to say, yeah! I'm stressed out from all this fucking work your handing off to me to deal with while you go out and play.. and when I have questions to ask you through the day, you respond to me as though I am bothering you and inconveniencing you when it's your paperwork and letters that I'm doing.] He responds to me that there are worse things to be stressed about. THAT fucking irritated me. He doesn't know what I am going through... and I know he really has no desire to find out. It can get really lonely and sad with co-workers that treat you like that.
New text! Husband now says that he is 'really fucking irritated with me' that I leave all the dishes in the sink, now he can't use the sink. I wanted to say, well if you would do the damn dishes as I have done now for the past 3-4 times... you could USE the damn sink. Instead I told him that I can't use the counters on account of all the fucking dishes all over the place. Our kitchen is TINY. you can't do jack shit in there hardly unless it's clean every single day. I really don't want to deal with this shit. Right now especially.
I just want to go home and cry it out.
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