bitching, but you get to take a poll
Hypothetical situation:
You're having a good day. Despite the fact that you just started your period and you're in the process of moving your things by carloads across town in the June heat, it's been a spectacular day, mood-wise. You bought some plants and in general had a nice day turning your new place into somehting more livable.
You ask your boyfriend, who happens to live a block away from your new place, to meet you there to help you unload your boxes of books. There are 9 of them. You hauled them out of your old apartment, so obviously you could haul them into the new one. The idea is to get him to come over and keep you company while you shelve them. YOU DID THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING WITH HIM LAST WEEK AND YOU DIDN'T ACT BORED OR BEHAVE AS THOUGH HIS APARTMENT IS SUBPAR AND OFFENSIVE TO THE WORLD AT LARGE. You tell him you want his company.
He sits for about 3 minutes and watches you putting away books. Then he says he's going home to read. You get cold, as cold as Jack to Kate at the end of "The Hunting Party." He senses that you're annoyed and you halfway say you don't care, sarcastically. He's not THAT dense. He leaves saying you should come over when you're done, watch a movie.
He leaves. You get increasingly more mad as the time passes. You call and say you're not coming over, because you're halfway angry and you don't want to sit and pretend not to be. You are in some ways happy with the little exchange you have on the phone, because in light of the fight you had last weekend, at least 1) he didn't pretend as though you had no reason to be mad (out of defensiveness and a stubborn need not to be wrong) and 2) he did say "Sorry" without attaching the word "But."
Still, you wonder if you have any right to be mad at all. And what you should do--call him tomorrow and let is go or wait for him to call you because you need to see that he gives a shit.
Poll