Sunday, July 7, 2013

Mount Frigging Splashmore

I’ve taken to pre-empting issues.   And I’m good at it.  I can predict to the second when the Squeeze is going to conveniently forget what we agreed to upon moving to a bigger place to have the kid more.

Let’s face it; I’ve learned (quickly) that I have stepped into a Simpson’s episode.  I’m Homer.  The Squeeze is Santa’s Little Helper.   I’m talking, but all he is hearing is “blah blah blah”; which would be amusing if I didn’t want to plunge a knife through his hand – as a reminder to remember.

So I pre-empt when he is going to conveniently forget what we have agreed to and attempt to steam roll me into bending to his will (pfffttttt).  Even worse, I say the words (several times) and then follow up with a flowing email detailing how I feel, what was agreed to and that I am expecting him to adhere to that agreement.   If the agreement doesn’t stand, then negotiation was fake and the level of respect I have for him diminishes.  If what he agreed to, knowing it was my absolute maximum, doesn’t stand, then I’m facing the reality that in the scheme of things, what I want or need seriously doesn’t count in his world.

So I remind, then discuss, then warn (blah blah blah).  Then there is the prod to contact the Harridan and remind her just what it was that we agreed to because she is as bad as he; - not wanting to hear anything they don’t like.   As if burying their head in the sand or putting their hands over their ears and crying “I don’t remember you saying that”; actually holds any water at all.

It is school holidays – and the agreement was, as she is a teacher and has the time off in any case; she would have the kid.  I’m happy for the Squeeze to take a couple of weeks off and head out into the wild blue yonder and bond.  Hell, I’d love them to do that.  Leave me home in peace and quiet!!!!  Peenie whacker germ free!  Clean!  The kid had the school trip to France (you remember the one; where come hell or high water, the Squeeze was not putting in any more than one third.  I can't remember how long it took them to pry the wallet open, but of course he caved.  Way to go, let's teach the kid that you are all about "empty threats") but anyhow, he was coming home to one week of school holidays.  I knew that the Harridan would be trying to fob him off; which means that the Squeeze would roll over, tongue lolling and wag his tail at the idea. 

So two weeks out.. I have the discussion.  One week out, I send the email.

There was no way in Hell I was leaving a teenager here all day to eat with a teaspoon over the rug, not flush the loo or put his peenie whacker tainted hands over everything.   Also, there is the small reality that he is in year ten and I am still yet to see any homework pass by; and homework was never going to happen if there is a television or internet in the same universe.

This morning I wake to the Squeeze telling me that the kid is staying Tuesday night. 

Really.  Are we seriously just going to fly with that..?  Seriously..?  They sure as Hell don’t get that I am not relinquishing one of my nights.  Not one.  I’ve given enough.  4 nights of some pimply faced kid looking at me as though he is superior and ignoring what I ask, is enough for anyone!   But more than that, if I relinquish one of my days, then next time it will be two… then three… and suddenly, I’ll find myself living in the Hell that would be having a full time teenager who looks through me, living in my house.

Wearing me down – will not achieve what they want.   I’ll die arguing about it – or he will.

In keeping with the Simpson’s; the Squeeze is like Bart…
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;
“can we go to Mount Splashmore…”;

No.  We cannot go to Mount Splashmore.

We are never going to Mount Frigging Splashmore! 
He can stick to the agreement.    At least until the lease expires.
Then he can do as he likes; on his own!

Thursday, July 4, 2013

I'm not a violent person...

But every so often, I seriously want to punch the Squeeze in the head.

It is simple arithmetic to me.  I want a house.  I want a future.
He doesn't think or care about a future.  Instead, he rolls in one slick move and hands his wallet over whenever asked.  I've tried to halt the rape and pillage, but seriously, I think he likes it.

So I mentioned the reality of life.  At the finish of our lease, I'm moving out.  Me.  Not him or the kid.  I can't do it anymore.  And when he starts saying how the poor Harridan can keep the money, after all, she has to raise the kid - I want to burst my spleen.

Yes; all hail the Harridan.  Poor cow has to spend some time with her own kid.  I mean we actually have him more than her.  Which means I have him more than her - pity, I don't get even a thanks...

Anyway, I actually don't want to do it anymore.  Love isn't supposed to be this hard.
And I'm damned sick of always coming last.  And I feel okay about it - which means the moron used and abused for just a tad too long.

This song is not about him...  I just like it.  :)

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Roger Ramjet

Today – just another argument asking why the Squeeze is determined to bend over and let that horrible cow give it to him…   I should start calling him Roger Ramjet...

This time, I walked away and contacted a budgeting company.  I'm not in debt but money just leaks out of my hands!

It’s time to take myself in hand and save for a house – but come hell or high water, the Moodle won’t have anything to do with it!  Knowing him, I’d pop my clogs and he’d hand everything over to the kid and that bitch!

Grrrrrrr.  Fool.