Dear Dad

Today I dropped my Stats class. I'm frustrated and annoyed with myself because I know I should have been able to handle the workload.

On top of that, I'm frustrated and annoyed with M because of his entire lack of housework. I know I'm not the world's best housekeeper, but he's actually making negative effort. Since my positive effort is what it is, you can imagine the end result.

Today we were supposed to get the carpets cleaned. I spent the last 4 days doing a Stats exam and washing dishes as a brain break. I told him that we needed to have all of the 'stuff' off of the furniture so the guys could move what was necessary. When I got home last night, not only had he not moved a goddamn thing but there was MORE stuff out lying around.

I was so angry I actually saw red. I mean, it's not like he doesn't know that I've been sick and then had this exam which was making me crazy. It's so fucking hard to put your dishes IN THE KITCHEN? It's not even WASHING them. Just MOVE them.

And then I think, I don't really get to be mad because - frankly - he did the lion's share of cleaning up for a long time. On the other hand, FUCK YOU, I totally get to be pissed off because when did EVERYTHING become MY job?

So my big plan is that I'm throwing shit out. I'm throwing lots of shit out. I may not even return the fucking cans and bottles, just pitch them. Because if we've got less shit, there's less shit to pick up and/or move. And by Thursday, when the carpet guys come, there won't be a goddamn thing lying around.

It makes me wonder how you lived with Mom all those years.