My husband and I went camping and horseback riding with some friends over the weekend. We had a great time. Except that I went to bed early because I didn’t feel good. But that happens every time we go camping and do something fun. I’m not sure what the problem is, but something about being out in the sun just makes me feel sick. I’ve been doing some research and think it may be related to adrenal fatigue, but I’m not really sure. In any case, I usually make it through the first night okay but by the time we head home, I have a raging headache and I’m nauseous. I’ve always figured it was dehydration even though I would make a real effort to drink fluids.
So this time, before we went riding, I slathered on the sunscreen, put on my hat and sunglasses and packed the saddle bag with bottles of water. I really don’t like water – especially warm water – so I chugged a cold one (water) before we left. I avoided alcohol thinking that might contribute to the dehydration. I drank even when I wasn’t thirsty. I drank water that had been in the saddle bag all day and was actually HOT. (It was about 100 degrees out.)
Nope. No luck. Still got sick. It was about two hours to home, and as my husband was driving, I sat in the passenger seat trying to keep from vomiting. He looked over at me and the fight was on.
Him: “What’s wrong? Are you tired?”
Me: “Very tired. And you know I just don’t feel good.” (Big sigh)
Him: “Why do you ALWAYS get sick when we do stuff?!?”
Me: “I wish I knew. I thought I was getting dehydrated, but today I tried SO hard to avoid dehydration and I’m STILL sick. I hate it.”
Him: “To me, it seems pretty convenient for you that I always have to drive home and unload the horses and the car and…”
Me: “You think I’m getting sick ON PURPOSE?!?”
Him: “Well, look at it from MY point of view.”
WTF?!?! HIS point of view? OMG. I’m the one that keeps feeling like crap and not knowing what to do about it. I’m the one that has to deal with the blinding headaches and the puking my guts out! And he wants me to see it from HIS point of view? At least he has the CHOICE whether or not to be angry about it. I don’t have a choice. I just get sick!
Of course, this isn’t the FIRST time we’ve had this conversation. You’d think he’d remember from one time to the next that I don’t choose to feel this way. I certainly don’t want to be bitched at because I’m sick, so if I had the choice, I wouldn’t choose THAT.
Sometimes, I just CANNOT figure out what goes through that head of his. I think the “common sense” connection in his brain didn’t develop. Or, maybe it’s just a man thing.
So my husband finally picked up his pajama pants. I couldn’t stand it anymore this weekend when he was bitching about something that had been laying in the yard for a week. It was something HE threw when we were having an argument. But somehow, it was my responsibility to pick it up. SO I asked when he was planning to pick up those pj pants off the bathroom floor. He stormed into the house and less than 30 seconds later, came back out.
“I don’t know what you are talking about – you are crazy! There are no pajama pants on the bathroom floor!!!” he boomed.
I just shook my head and went about my business as he continued to rant about how I constantly fail to clean up after myself. (Ha!)
Later, when I went into the bathroom, sure enough… NO PJ PANTS ON THE FLOOR! Sometimes I wish that I really was crazy. Maybe life would be more pleasant.
So this morning, I am jostled awake by my husband. When I finally got up and looked at the clock it was probably about 5:15 am when he did this. My alarm doesn’t start going off until 6 and I need my sleep, damn it!!! So I’m really irritated. And on top of that, HE doesn’t have to go to work today. He normally gets up around 5 and wakes me in the process, so I was really looking forward to staying asleep until my alarm went off. No such luck.
Him (shaking me awake): “Get up, go to the bathroom and then come back to bed.”
Me: “Why do you have to wake me before my alarm?”
Him: “Because you’re mean to me.”
WTF?!? Where the hell did that come from and what does it even mean?
I realize he thinks I’m “mean” because I ask him to clean up after himself and sometimes I complain because he doesn’t do it which means extra chores for me. Quite often he puts me down and I attempt to defend myself, but I don’t really consider that to be mean.
And since I’m finally posting here again, I’m going to add a stupid comment he made yesterday. Since he was working this weekend, I finally had a chance to catch up on some projects I had been putting off – some of which included basic housekeeping. It’s next to impossible to get anything done when he’s home because he always wants me to be right by his side. He’d rather be outdoors than indoors. So outside chores get accomplished, but indoor chores don’t. Of course, then he complains because the housework isn’t done. I work a full-time job and volunteer 3 nights a week. Finding the time…well, I won’t get started on that.
Anyway, I had moved our very small dining table into the living room so I could get some sewing and things done and see the TV at the same time. Not a big deal – we don’t eat at the table anyway. I didn’t get my projects finished so I just left everything on the table and moved it to the side of the living room, out of the way, until I can get back to it. So Tuesday, he says, “When are you going to put that table back?” With a big sigh, I reply, “When I’m finished with it.”
This is frustrating for me because he leaves his crap all over everywhere – inside, outside, in the car. And then who has to pick it up when she can’t stand to keep walking around it anymore? Yup… me. So for him to complain that the table has been out of place for 2 days really chaps my hide. There’s a pair of his pajama pants lying on our bathroom floor. I honestly can’t remember how long they’ve been there. I walk over the top of them, sweep and mop around them, ignore them – just waiting for him to move them. I’m trying to make a point. I don’t think it’s working.
Maybe I’ll tell him that I will put the table back once he decides to finally pick up his pj pants.
I know this is going to require a lot of explanation, but I married a really stupid man. That’s why this blog must remain entirely anonymous. I mean, I consider myself a pretty intelligent person, but I tend to make hasty decisions and didn’t have all the information before I said, “I do.” Many people I know are aware that my hubby is not so bright, but I don’t want to share with the world who I am. I just want to vent!!
So here I am to complain about this man who I love so dearly but drives me absolutely NUTS because sometimes the basic things confuse him. Argh!!
The first thing I remember him saying that got me thinking about writing a blog about his retarded remarks was this:
“I promise to never lie to you again, but it’s going to take some time.”
WTF? What’s going to take some time? Ceasing to lie? And if takes awhile to get to that point, how can you possibly promise that you’ll NEVER lie again?
If anyone is interested in sharing stupid remarks they’ve heard out of the mouths of their spouse, I’m interested in hearing about it. After all, this is a place where I want to vent, so I invite others to do the same.
More to come soon!