So I'm off to my moms today
Didn't get any packing done yesterday as I ran out of packing tape. I'd bought two rolls the day before, they didn't even last ten boxes. As if that wasn't annoying enough, the tape decided it didn't want to stick to the boxes. Then again, I guess I shouldn't always expect quality from a product that I bought at the dollar store. So I called S at work and asked him to bring home some tape.
TRM did his laundry on the weekend. When I went to finish S's and my laundry today, I discovered TRM had decided to wash his clothes, but he never put them in the dryer. He could tell that I obviously had more laundry to do, and I can't help but think he did this deliberately so that I'd have to dry and fold his clothes. Usually when I end up having to fold his clothes I iron them because they're dressy-casuals and he works in an office where it's sort of taboo to wear wrinkled clothes. In my own passive-aggressive revenge I didn't iron them this time. Ha, take that! Next I'll be so rebellious as to not replace the milk bag! I have a couple things left to fold, and then I'm done the laundry. Can't say I'm caught up, as you're never really caught up with it unless you and everybody else you wash clothes for are part-time nudists.
Went out for dinner with my father last night. We were going to eat at Sweet and Spicy and had made the plans to meet at 7. He's usually a bit late, but considering he's driving down the highway from the city (and he's buying dinner) it doesn't usually annoy me too much. Nobody in S's family or mine are known for their punctuality, but rather their lack thereof. "Oh, mom said she'll be here in an hour...so we have about an hour and a half, two..." so S and I went there for 7, sat down and ordered drinks as we waited. I noticed they don't offer free refills on any beverage, which irked me. Most places I go to that aren't fast food have free re-fills on soft drinks and coffee. The pop tasted flat. Nearly $2 for flat pop. We had told the hostess we were waiting for a third person, but then I guess maybe 10 or 15 minutes later the waitress came over asking if we'd be staying long. The way she worded the question struck me as rude, so I replied "We're waiting for another person...we told the hostess that when we were being seated." She then explained that they were closing at 8 and the cook had asked if the last order had been placed. Oh...well that made sense, although closing at 8 didn't. "I thought you closed at 9..." I explained. No, she explained, 9 on weekends, 8 on weekdays: Winter hours. (Stupid winter hours, although I shouldn't expect otherwise in this town where most everything closes by 5.) Then she asked if we'd made plans to meet the third party for 9. wtf? If we had, we would have ordered our dinner shortly after we entered, and why the heck would we show up two hours early? "No, seven." Sheesh! S claimed to have heard her say it was 7:30, though I never heard her say that and didn't think 20, let alone 30, minutes had passed. He seemed anxious to leave. Of course, he'd finished his virgin caeser-I hadn't even half finished my flat diet pepsi. The taste was vulgar, though for $2 I wanted to get my moneys worth. Well...his money. S was already in a mood, though, and as I said, the pop was crap. I didn't complain about it to him or the waitress, though when she rung up the bill she claimed to not charge us for the pop. She either lied or charged S for a regular caeser as the bill came to close to $6. $6 for one virgin caeser seems rather pricey to me.
But when S is in his mood and decides he's ready to leave a place, I keep my mouth shut. He'd already been in a mood before we even left the house (since we're moving he feels as though everybody is turning their back on him yet doting on me. We both know that any preferential treatment I recieve right now is because most people are kind of stupid when it comes to babies, and as a result, pregnant women. When the kid is born I'll be as ignored as I was before I was knocked up. The only reason his aunt and my family are disappointed that we're moving "so far" is because of the baby. "They can have their own baby, then!" he declared. I can understand his frustrations, but when he gets like that it frustrates me. When he's not venting, he's being quiet and withdrawn, and I can *feel* his mood which puts me on edge. Of course, I'm pretty bitchy when I get into a mood...and it doesn't take much to put me in one.) I was tempted to tell him to just stay home, but that wouldn't be fair. If he was going out to dinner and I was invited, of course I'd be looking forward to it....being told to stay home would piss me off. Anyways, after paying a ridiculous amount for supposedly one (but more likely two) drinks we stood in the entryway keeping an eye out for my father. The entire time S kept sighing and complaining about how he wasn't going to show up and he'd have to cook dinner and it was already late, he was hungry and tired, and we wouldn't be eating until closer to 10 at this rate...I kept thinking "Just shut up and go home!" then he said "Forget it. Ready to go?" Here I stood my ground "No. I don't think it was 7:30 like she supposedly told us it was. Now it may be 7:45, but in no way is it eight or even after eight." He scoffed "Right, like the waitress lied to us to get us out of there!" Um...probably, either that or she said that the kitchen closes at 7:30 and he misunderstood her. He went back in and checked the time, coming back out and saying "Okay-you were right." At least he can admit when he's wrong. Seconds later he saw my father pull up, so we walked over and met him at his car. He was standing beside it saying "Gee, I hope you weren't here since seven!" Feeling on edge because of S's mood, and annoyance at having waited nearly an hour, I ignored the comment and explained that the restaurant was closing at 8. We decided on Swiss Chalet, and he explained he'd tried to call Sweet n Spicy to let us know he was running late but had somehow been connected to a restaurant in the city. Weird.
Dinner started off uncomfortable, but it wasn't so bad. I think if S had been in a better mood it might have gone better. He was nice to the waitress and once we were seated he seemed to feel a bit better. It also helped that my father was one of the few people not making a big deal of the fact that we're moving "so far".
My fucking cat-I'll add more later.