You’re gonna have to let go

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This was my mantra as I puttered around the house today.  I don’t want to be this cranky bitch for the next two years.  That is not the haps.

The Mister is really working a nerve, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m nervous about school or if it’s my period or that he’s a spoiled asshole some days.

The house is a bigger mess than usual because although school just started I am exhausted.  I mean just worn out.  So  I haven’t been folding clothes, picking  up crap off the floor, throwing away old mail.  NADA!  I did a mini clean yesterday which consisted of cleaning off the entryway table.  (YAY ME!)

As I look around I’m getting pissed, because although my house stays a mess most days I’m now seeing that the Mister hasn’t been helping me do much of anything as far as the house is concerned.  I mean I thought I was a shitty house keeper, but his ass don’t do shit.

So while I’m looking around my craptastic home, I notice he has put a load of laundry in the machine.  I feel joy (or what I thought was joy).  I take the dry clothes out of the dryer and start to load the wet clothes in…then I noticed it he had washed a pair of my pants that go to the cleaners AND 99% of the clothes were his!

MUTHAFUCKER!

That shit isn’t going to fly, I know for a fact the rugrats have some dirty clothes (evidenced by the HUGE basket of Jah’s dirty shit sitting in the doorway of the laundry room).

I keep telling myself  “you’re going to have to let go”   I’m not too sure how that’s all going to work out.  I’m tired of him doing shit halfassed, but I’m going to let him to it just that way.

I’m going to pray that I don’t hurt him between now and when I really learn to let it go.

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2 responses »

  1. Girl, you’re singing my tune. Since I’ve gone back to work, my husband hasn’t done a thing, either. I’m getting a housekeeper and taking the cost out of his monthly beer allotment.

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