HUBBY RANT
Sometimes I wonder why I bothered to get married ... or at the very least, why I stay married.
Tonight is my office Christmas party ... well, the version of the office party that invovles all the pomp and circumstance (management, department heads and other "key" staff members). It's one of those things that I don't really want to go to, but feel that it would be very bad form to miss. Spouses are invited, so I was expecting hubby to go with me. He's gone in the past and always ends up having more fun at these things than I do.
But he has the job from Hell (yeah, the one that's currently "iffy" in the sense that the owners filed Chapter 11 around Thanksgiving, so the future is a bit uncertain). This time of year, they go into what they call "shutdown" ... which skipping all the techical crap means that he won't get another day off other than Christmas Day from now until January 10th at best. It puts him in a rather crabby mood. Still, he was planning to go with me. It would have been good for him really ... a few drinks, a bit of socializing.
Well, we got home from work and there was a message on the answering machine saying they were calling from the office where we have our camper set up at the beach. They were calling about the damage to the camper from the recent storm. No explanation of what is damaged, or how bad, and of course, this being the "off season" now, they're gone until Monday.
So hubby thinks it wise to go down there tonight to check it out. I agree and say we'll go make a quick appearance at the party, explain our situation to the host, wish everyone a Happy Christmas and head to the coast. But no ... he can't wait long enough to do that. So now he's gone to the beach and I'm going to the party alone. It just really pisses me off because an hour isn't going to make that much difference one way or the other.
But then on top of that, I had a box of stuff that needed to go back to the beach. I asked if he'd take it with him and leave it in the camper so it wouldn't be here in the way all during the Christmas hols. He said he would, so I left it by the back door and went to get my shower. While in the shower, I heard some horrendous crash followed by some more horrendous cursing, then nothing. I get out and wrap a towel around myself and go running into the kitchen, concerned he may've hurt himself somehow. Well, he's gone and the box of stuff to go back to the beach is scattered all over the floor ... which probably means he dropped it, or it was in his way and he just threw it, or some other equally lame ass thing.
It's not really only that though. I'll tag along when he wants to go fishing, just because he doesn't want to go alone. I'll tag along to his office parties (which I loathe), just because he doesn't want to go alone. But he NEVER wants to do any of the things that are important to me, and rarely is he ever even willing to do them.
Remember, I'm the girl who flew to London alone because he found the idea of going to a stage play utterly boring. Same thing with New York. He won't go to concerts with me, or to films. I go alone or go with a girlfriend. It practically takes an act of God to get him into a restaurant with me.
I'm just really starting to feel like if the only time I have a husband is when it's time to fight over the roaming charges on my cell phone bill, why do I even bother?
OK ... end of rant. If I don't go dry my hair and get dressed, I'm going to be late for the party.
Tonight is my office Christmas party ... well, the version of the office party that invovles all the pomp and circumstance (management, department heads and other "key" staff members). It's one of those things that I don't really want to go to, but feel that it would be very bad form to miss. Spouses are invited, so I was expecting hubby to go with me. He's gone in the past and always ends up having more fun at these things than I do.
But he has the job from Hell (yeah, the one that's currently "iffy" in the sense that the owners filed Chapter 11 around Thanksgiving, so the future is a bit uncertain). This time of year, they go into what they call "shutdown" ... which skipping all the techical crap means that he won't get another day off other than Christmas Day from now until January 10th at best. It puts him in a rather crabby mood. Still, he was planning to go with me. It would have been good for him really ... a few drinks, a bit of socializing.
Well, we got home from work and there was a message on the answering machine saying they were calling from the office where we have our camper set up at the beach. They were calling about the damage to the camper from the recent storm. No explanation of what is damaged, or how bad, and of course, this being the "off season" now, they're gone until Monday.
So hubby thinks it wise to go down there tonight to check it out. I agree and say we'll go make a quick appearance at the party, explain our situation to the host, wish everyone a Happy Christmas and head to the coast. But no ... he can't wait long enough to do that. So now he's gone to the beach and I'm going to the party alone. It just really pisses me off because an hour isn't going to make that much difference one way or the other.
But then on top of that, I had a box of stuff that needed to go back to the beach. I asked if he'd take it with him and leave it in the camper so it wouldn't be here in the way all during the Christmas hols. He said he would, so I left it by the back door and went to get my shower. While in the shower, I heard some horrendous crash followed by some more horrendous cursing, then nothing. I get out and wrap a towel around myself and go running into the kitchen, concerned he may've hurt himself somehow. Well, he's gone and the box of stuff to go back to the beach is scattered all over the floor ... which probably means he dropped it, or it was in his way and he just threw it, or some other equally lame ass thing.
It's not really only that though. I'll tag along when he wants to go fishing, just because he doesn't want to go alone. I'll tag along to his office parties (which I loathe), just because he doesn't want to go alone. But he NEVER wants to do any of the things that are important to me, and rarely is he ever even willing to do them.
Remember, I'm the girl who flew to London alone because he found the idea of going to a stage play utterly boring. Same thing with New York. He won't go to concerts with me, or to films. I go alone or go with a girlfriend. It practically takes an act of God to get him into a restaurant with me.
I'm just really starting to feel like if the only time I have a husband is when it's time to fight over the roaming charges on my cell phone bill, why do I even bother?
OK ... end of rant. If I don't go dry my hair and get dressed, I'm going to be late for the party.