My Ghetto Confession...

Okay, I have a ghetto confession to make.

I needed to run to the store at suppertime last night. We were out of butter & a few other things...but mainly, we needed the butter to finish dinner.
Anyway...I ran up to this little ghetto store...I knew that I wouldnt run into anyone I know...so, I wore a t-shirt, jeans, & my house-shoes. How ghetto is that???? But, I also knew that I'd fit right into the general consumer population at that store.

So then---as I am walking from my car into the store...there was a little girl, about 3 or 4 years old. Well dressed, braided & pony-tailed hair...she was holding her Daddy's hand. She said this to her dad---I kid you not---"Daddy, she wore her slippers. How come I had to put on MY shoes?"

I felt so GHETTO!


So...there's that.

Yesterday, on my way home from work, some guy rear-ended my Jeep-Jeep. Yup...I'm going to need a new bumper. I felt really bad for him. He tried to stop in time (we were in traffic), but he slammed on his brakes, his car skidded, and BOOM...he was all up in my bumper. His car is smashed up...mine just probably needs a new bumper & an alignment. Anyway--like I said, I felt bad for the guy.

Today...it's Valentine's Day. A holiday that I normally enjoy. But today....hmmm...not so much. I guess it's just b/c I'm in a bad mood. Oh, and my boss said to me, "I owe you a Valentine. I got everyone chocolate covered fortune cookies, but I was one short." To which I replied, "That's okay, I dont like fortune cookies." Thinking back on that...(1) It's not entirely true. I like fortune cookies, I just dont like to eat them. I think they taste like crap. (2) It sounded a lot snottier than I meant for it to sound. So, I hope she's not mad.

...but whatever.

Back to Valentine's Day.
Dad took this girl to the Dominican Republic for Valentine's Day.
I wish I were on some beachy vacation right now!

Valentine's Day at the Duke House didnt get off to a great start. I'm mad. According to my husband, I "stay mad".

Scenario: I get up at 6, had to shower, blow dry my hair, dress, & get to work by 8. Damon fed the baby a bottle at 6. By the time I was out of the shower, he was done giving Gage a bottle. I got clothes out, and asked Damon if he would iron my pants. Didnt get a "Yes sweetie, I'd love to do that for you"....didnt get a "No, iron your own damn pants"....didnt get any type of response whatsoever. So, I took that as a "No". So of course, I'm immediately mad. Why? (1) he never helps when I ask for his help. He'll offer to help with things when it is convenient for him...but when I ask for help--he always has a reason as to why he cant help, or he will bitch & moan for 15 minutes, finally help, and then bring it up all the time like he deserves some type of award. Oh--and he'll always help if he has an audience. For example, if I ask for help with something & we have company, he'll always say yes b/c he doesnt want to look like an ass. (2) he was not doing ANYTHING when I asked for his help. He was laying in bed w/ the baby, and they were watching the news. Gage already had his bottle. They were just laying there. Gage could lay in the living room while Damon helped me by ironing my pants. (3) he only wouldnt help me to be spitefull. He told me that he'd iron 5 outfits for me on Sunday if I didnt make him go to Tyler w/ me. I didnt lay 5 outfits out, and I made him go to Tyler with me, thus I somehow waived any right that I had in requesting his ironing assistance. WTF-ever.
So, I was 30 minutes late for work b/c I had to shower, blow dry my hair, and iron my clothes.

So---my lack of adequate time management is not his fault, & he is in no way responsible for it. I'm not blaming him for that. I'm just saying, I would like to get hlep when I ask for it every now & then.

Yesterday morning, I asked for help with the baby b/c I'd been up with him twice during the night. When I asked for help around 5:30am, he just laughed at me. What a JackAss! I took that as a "No" to my request for assistance. Later yesterday when I brought that to his attention, he swears he must have been asleep b/c he doesnt recall that incident at all.

And then last night, I asked Damon to put the baby down to bed for me. Which he did...but then, he's brought that up in conversation last night & again today---like he should get some type of freaking medal. Um---here you go, Dear---oh look, there's no medal---it's just a sticky note w/ the word "parenting" written on it---there's your medal.

Oh---and then, he says that the root problem is that I'm selfish b/c I get mad when he doesnt "jump" when I say "jump". I didnt tell him to go iron my pants. I asked him for help so that I could be on time. He couldnt give me a single good reason why he couldnt or wouldnt help me (in my opinion anyway). AAAAND...I pointed out that I got up at 5 in the morning to iron his shirt to wear to his grandma's funeral. He said that if I had been going to a funeral today, he would have ironed my pants. Why on Earth does it matter where I was going? Whether he was going to a funeral, or going to flip burgers at McDonalds--he asked for my help & I obliged. Why does it have to be a tit-for-tat thing? I want help when I freaking ask for it!

Okay...I know, I've been venting...but I'm so frustrated.


I'm scheduled to work every day for 19 consecutive days. So far, I'm on Day 2. Great.
Calgon take me away.