First, a picture.
It’s 80 degrees today. I have a teensy case of heat intolerance, and even after blasting the AC, being on my feet feels like a flat out sprint. Add fucking hulk rage to that and I didn’t even need to check to know I crossed over into the 200bpm range.
My husband is being a goddamn idiot. He wants to take the truck. It’s supposed to rain the whole way back. There isn’t enough room in the cab to fit everything that needs to stay dry. So it looks like I’ll have to unpack everything to dry when I get there. There’s plenty of room in the golf, and it gets 52mpg instead of 12mpg.
The truck is not a fucking road trip vehicle. I’ve said all I can say, but he’s going to do what he wants. He’s so driven to do irrational things, I just don’t get it.
He spent all yesterday evening and night fucking around with his new laptop instead of getting himself ready to go. Because I’m just as big of an idiot, I picked up the slack and I’m paying for it big time.
I spent most of the morning puking my guts out, then when that shit finally stopped it was already 500 degrees in the house, so most of the day was spent flat on my back with a fan blasting me in the face to keep my heart from exploding.
He said we’d be leaving at 8pm, but changed it to 12am. I was so whipped by the time he got home from work, that I was ready for a nap, then he said, “oh, by the way…truck.”. I can’t sleep now because I’m pissed.
It’s not just about the truck. It’s that he doesn’t listen. I’ve been in plenty of situations with him where he does stupid shit according to everyone but himself, but he does it anyhow because he’s so convinced he’s right.
I love him, but fucking hell, I want to whack him the the head with a big stick. See if I can’t fix that weird, miswired brain of his.