dirty roos

Lyn Blue

Tue, 02/03/2009 - 04:59

 This morning I was picking up my log's dirty roos, folding them and putting them back in his drawer. Then I watched him get out of the shower and put a dirty roo on. Disgusting. I about puked in my mouth. I know it's wrong, but I'm at the end of my nice gal road here. I still fell like I can't say anything. I mean, he didn't do anything he hasn't done for the last decade we've been together. I wonder if this is what Oprah means by imbalanced hormones? Fuck a diggity long duck dong. What would happen if I left? If I disappeared? Would the dishes get done? The laundry get folded? The dogs get fed? Groceries get bought up? Shit get cooked? It's just frustrating because I want to work more and he's the one always telling me not to. It's like he's scared I'm gonna die and no one will be left to do this crap for him or something. Whatever. That's NOT the way I'm going to die. God's got something more dramatic in mind for me. I'm sure of it.

• Lyn Blue's blog