It's Official, I'm Insane

I totally went off on hubby today.

I'm just an emotional wreck. I keep on gaining weight (I stepped on the scale this morning and it did not look pretty) and this damn acne will not go away!!! I can't believe how hard it is to get my face to clear up. It's never been this bad.

So mentally I've convinced myself that I'm the creepy kid again. My worst fear. Being the kid who everyone thinks is creepy, only now you're an adult, no one will tell you. I don't know of it's worse being taunted by it as a kid, or not knowing as an adult.

So I'm just thoroughly disgusted with myself. I know I shouldn't but I think I still have a lot of issues left over from when I was a kid. Even I hate admitting to this psycho-drama. However, as a kid we always moved around, therefore I was always the new kid. With red hair, freckles, and pudge. Kids always made fun of me...always. And I was always hurt by it. Massively hurt.

My father never really helped either. He and my mother separated when I was young. After that, I always have tried to gain my father's respect and admiration. Of course, it doesn't help that I never seemed to gain that from my father. (*cough*bastard*cough*)

Maybe part of me is stressed that hubby will become successful and leave my ass. On some unconscious level, because I haven't really thought it outright before. Maybe I'm scared of losing control, although I shouldn't.

Part of what started it off today, was a stupid shirt. He wanted to wear this short yesterday, but it was wrinkled. The iron didn't work. When he picked me up from work last night, we went out to eat (his idea - part of my problem) and he said he wanted to go out and get an iron. We went to Target and while there he says, "You don't have to do my laundry, but if you did, it would be nice. But you don't have to."

Funny, isn't it? This from the guy who said, "I love that you don't play games." when we first got together. So I told him, "Okay. Then I won't worry about it, because you didn't ask. If you want me to do it, then all you have to do is ask."

Him: "I did ask."

Me: "No, you stated that you wouldn't mind if I did it. Big difference from, 'Honey, could you please iron my shirts for me?'"

Him: "Okay, then will you iron my shirts for me? Although I don't expect you to."

I do have to admit, it probably is a very fine line these guys walk now-a-days with us career women. We don't want to be forced to be a housewife, but feel guilty because we aren't. WTF?!

So I agreed to do his ironing. I haven't done it in forever, but I figured I'd be a good little wifey, get away from the tv some more, and do the ironing.

So Target is fairly expensive, we go to Wal-Mart, which I absolutely hate. He bitches and complains about how he wanted to go to Wal-Mart first and I just thinking, "Gawd, I'm so freaking tired, my feet are killing me and out of a 100 registers only 10 are open. Does that make sense?"

We finally get home and go to bed. In the morning, I wake up, I ask him what he wants, tea or coffee, and he nicely replies that I don't need to make breakfast for him, he'll take us out to Jamba Juice. Cool, I have time to iron that shirt then.

Now I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I don't iron. I have always sucked at it. So it takes me about 15 minutes to iron one shirt. You can tell he's a bit impatient. Looking over the shirt and identifying wrinkles as if they were the missing MWDs from Iraq. No biggie. I reiron and hand him the shirt. He looks at it and says, "You know at what you make an hour, this really isn't worth your time. I think we should take these into to be drycleaned once I get my check." SLAP!

Okay, he probably didn't hear the slap, I know damn well he didn't, but I did. I almost literally felt it. I try to do something nice and I get a, "You know someone else could do this better" comment. I am sure he was trying to be nice, but men have a really bad way of making nice comments schmarmy.

I mean how would he feel if I said, "Ya know. That sex the other night is just not worth your time. How about I outsource it then you could get a little gaming in at night?"

I know, not the same thing, but it really did hurt. And see this is another problem. I'm so freakin emotional lately. Probably PMS, but post instead of pre. Fuckin emotions. I hate them. I want to be Spock, then I could just turn to him and say, "That's highly illogical, sir. We just spent $100 on an ironing board and an iron. My learning curve will decrease the amount of time it takes to iron, in addition to time saved not transporting the clothes to and from the drycleaner."

(sigh)