A heads-up to any man who may enter my life in the future, if any other man ever does:

I am not morning sexy. I have bad breath, eye crust, & a full bladder.

7am is NOT when I want to fuck.

I swear I'm not one to post a bunch of BS about my sex life...usually. But goddammit. I don't like waking up in the first place. I HATE waking up to you expecting me to be fucking joyful about your manmeat rubbing against my brown eye (which reminds me, I need to take a shit.)

Don't get me wrong, occasionally a little spontaneous wake up sex is nice.

BUT NOT EVERY GODDAMN-ME MORNING. Not even twice a WEEK asshole. That "little smile" you mentioned seeing this morning? I was imagining kicking your nuts into your ribcage.

-sigh-

I haven't wanted jack fuck to do with sex of any form lately. I'm severely pissed off at least 75% of the time. I can't stop thinking about...shit. I'm more angry than I've ever been in my entire fucking life, all day, every day.

 

Yep. Just like that.

Still no job leads. I've applied fucking everywhere you can in a town roughly the size of Fordyce. Even if I DID get hired, how the fuck would I get there? I have an appt. with my college adviser tomorrow. Doubtful. SOMEONE hasn't put his truck in his name yet, and his tags are expired. Therefore, me driving it is fucking dangerous. So I don't. And he has made NO EFFORT whatsoever to do any of the above. I fucking swear he's holding me back on purpose. He said not long ago: "I consider myself successful. I've accomplished everything I set out to accomplish, & now I'm just enjoying life."

...

YOU'RE ENJOYING THIS?! What fresh fucking crack are you smoking?!

You're the only one employed. Your mother badgers you into paying her credit card statement monthly because you've used it in the past to pay bills (why can't you get your own goddamn credit card?! You're fucking 35) & you've been doing this for 2. Years. Did you buy a fucking YACHT?!

The bugs are back in the kitchen & you haven't done shit about it. 

You won't turn on the central heat because the house is so poorly insulated that turning the heat on even moderately will run the electric bill up to around $400 per month. 

The oven has never not once worked. When I bake I do it in a goddamn toaster oven.

I have to BEG you to fucking spend money on groceries. We got into a fight the other night about it. "There's nothing to fucking eat" I said. "There's canned beets & hominy" you said. Beets & fucking hominy.

You act like you're doing me this huge goddamn favour every time you buy me jack shit. You patted yourself on the back for the better part of an hour last night for buying me a $2 bottle of nail polish.

You pitched a fucking fit because I told you I didn't want to cook buttered noodles for Thanksgiving. Maybe I'm a food snob, but the idea of butter & egg noodles doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. When I offered the alternative of Alfredo noodles, your response was "We're not fucking Eye-talian."

That's another thing...is the name of the country pronounced "Eye-taly"? No? THEN YOU'RE MISPRONOUNCING THAT SHIT AREN'T YOU ASSHOLE?!?!

You automatically write off everything I say because all of the women you've ever been with have apparently been complete retards. I can tell from the look of shock on your face every time I manage to prove you wrong about facts & pronunciation. That is, if you don't pull out your old "She makes a statement, I say "No" repeatedly, no matter how many facts she has to back up her shit." Denial...it ain't just a river in Egypt.

I'm sorry that I'm about 100 times more booksmart than you. I'm sorry that I aspire to more than living in a roach motel with your museum of "highly collectible" things that all seem to be worth infinitely more to you than I am. I'm sorry because at least that last part coupled with our toxic history likely means that we can never be happy together.

...Well not really.