So just wrote a little email to Jennifer, and thought I’d put it here…. It’s a little (ok, more than a little) irreverent, but hey that’s what I do.
Excerpt from email:
So there’s somebody out there having a worst day than us…. I work with this woman named Terri. Don’t really know her that well – just enough to say hi. Well, she wasn’t at work on Friday and didn’t show again today. Noel just showed me an article she found online that Terri’s in jail! She apparently hit a guy on a motorcycle on the way to work Friday morning and he died…. she’s been charged with manslaughter and DUI! She was coming to work drunk – it’s really sad about the man who died, but I can’t get past the coming to work drunk thing. She lives in Spartanburg – I wonder how many times she’s been lit while making that drive?!? It’s kinda weird – you just don’t know about people sometimes.
And is it just me, or is the whole freakin world gone crazy with bad crap lately? Chad died, Mama got rediagnosed, Grandpa died, traumatic moving experiences, job changes, Bobby’s aunt died, the girl in Bowman committed suicide, Ron (my boss’s) brother-in-law died, another girl here at work’s friend died at age 32 of a massive heart attack, and now the drunk coworker runs over the poor motorcycle man…GEEZ.
And I realized after I sent that I forgot something too – Loretta’s son Travis hit two people while drinking and will probably do jail time. It’s sucky stuff, I’m telling you.
Tom just received word today that he’s probably going to be ordained – as in ordained minister – on April 21st. It’s so weird to think that Tom’s an official preacher-man… Sometimes I feel like such a complete heathen around him. But he doesn’t really seem to hold it against me – he sat and ate spaghetti and cake, and stayed to finish the movie we were watching even after Jennifer went back to their apartment to go to bed. So that’s good – if I have to have a preacher brother-in-law, he’s definitely the snazziest one around.
So Bobby and I had a monster fight Friday night. This is the second Friday night in a row that we’ve fought all evening. Can’t be a coincidence – it’s obviously stress-related – weeks at jobs that are boring us to death/kicking our tails, then throw in a traumatic event or two with a good strong dose of my family, and you’ve got a big fat mess on your hands. My favorite quote of the night was “Sarah, we need to have a serious talk about our marriage – it sucks.” I disagreed of course – I don’t think the last few weeks and months are a good indication of normal life. Bobby’s attitude is the reason people get divorced when the going gets tough – you don’t just plop down and say “This sucks – I have no solutions, I just want to tell you that this sucks, and we have serious problems.” In my opinion, you should consider the entire picture before blaming the marriage itself. When I said that to him, he said “I’m not talking about finances, I’m not talking about our families. I’m talking about our marriage.” Well, duh, I am too. You don’t think that all of those things are intertwined? Of course they are – one cannot be properly evaluate without considering the other aspects/circumstance/series of unfortunate events that are contributing factors.
The whole thing started because I looked at the RWP checking account and saw where efax.com had drafted $17.95 out of our account. Now this didn’t make any sense whatsoever because I, with Bobby’s full knowledge, had signed up for a myfax.com account just 3 weeks ago. So I asked him what the heck was going on, and he very casually said “oh, I signed us up about 2 months ago.” Well, you didn’t think it would be pertinent to mention that while I was doing all the pricing comparisons a few weeks ago?!?! And now we have two electronic fax accounts instead of just one… and so then he starts yelling about how he can’t spend any money without asking me, and he’s SORRY that he didn’t ask my permission to spend $17.95, and he’ll just take that money out of his lunch money, because it’s all his fault for not remembering that I’m the boss of our finances and he’s just SORRY. It was truly, truly ridiculous…. I was livid.
#1 – He totally missed the point of why I was mad – the lack of communication is what pissed me off, not the money.
#2 – He’s obviously not listening to me like 98% of the time. He’s a fairly smart guy and if he had been listening with even part of his brain, he would have realized that mentioning that we already have a fax number would be a very useful piece of information that he might want to share.
#3 – If he feels like our budget sucks and I’m the dictator of the finances, why doesn’t he show any interest at all when I talk to him about it? I’m always mulling over the details of the budget, and 9 times out of 10, I talk to him about it just because I want to share it with him – and he never utters a damn word.
Most of the time, it’s painfully obvious that he’s not even listening to me (refer to #2 for an example of this behavior). It just pisses me off – because then it ends up being my fault when it all explodes, and he comes stomping into the bedroom making big sweeping statements about how our marriage sucks, and “this just isn’t fun anymore.”
Well, I’m sorry, free spirit, that you’re not having fun anymore – come on over and join me in the non-fun boat that I’ve been sitting in for several months now with my feet in the water that’s seeped in and my fingers in the holes so I don’t freakin sink. My god, suck it up and get over it. Really.
And in other news – the names of my new niece or nephew have pretty much been decided as of this weekend. Since this is Grandpa’s first great-grandchild, they’re naming him or her Lawrence. A boy will be Noah Lawrence Haren, called “Noah.” And a girl will be Margaret Lawrence Haren, called “Maggie Lawrence.” I’ve been hoping for a boy, but the cuteness of “Maggie Lawrence” almost makes me want it be a girl. If it’s a girl – and then maybe I’ll actually have the first boy – it would be kinda nice to have the first something – a little Charlie bee-bopping around, being a little monster just like his daddy.