Are You Missing These Signs?

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Thursday, April 05, 2007

the third thing?

Mr. Wonderful and I are fighting.  Over the STUPIDEST thing.  I was going to try to work out starting this month, but last night I was so beat after the accident and the stress and I just wanted to go to bed.  Well he freaked out on me when I said I wasn't going to work out, got all pissy, wouldn't speak to me, wouldn't touch me when he came to bed.   This morning he texts me and tells me he had a dream that we broke up over it and he couldn't sleep.  I e-mailed him and tried to explain why I didn't really want to add the stress of disappointing him over not working out to my list of stresses.  He writes back and tells me he feels like I lied to him about working out at all.  Yep, I'm a big fat liar.  He said he wants me to be healthy and exercising will help me keep other stresses from getting to me so much.  I don't see how that's possible when I'm stressing over when I can find the time to exercise and what other things I could be accomplishing when I'm crunching away on the Bowflex.  Or hating myself in the morning because I didn't get any sleep because I was up late working out!  I just don't see how his theory holds any water.  So, true to form, I started being bitchy and he never lets me get away with that and he's pulled away from the conversation completely.  I want to just fucking scream at him. 

He wanted me to go home at lunch and I told him I wasn't going to because I wanted his attention last night and he refused so he could go fuck himself.  I didn't say it quite like that, but that's pretty much what I meant.  He accused me of being hateful and I said, "Oh, that wasn't even mean, let alone hateful."  This little boy hasn't even SEEN me get hateful.  He has no idea what I am capable of when it comes to hateful.  Generally he doesn't deserve it, so I don't go overboard when just a little sarcasm will do the trick.  But I really feel like this is fucking retarded.  Get off your goddamn healthy high horse and quit shoving exercise down my throat. 

Am I that unattractive?  No, I'm a fuckin hot chick with a bangin body.  Maybe I could have a flatter tummy, but if I don't have the time to devote to it right now because I'm worried about my fucking headache, bankruptcy, the car wreck, Tote's death and pending memorial service, losing my job because I've been late three times in the last week, and the possibility of not being able to get the classes I need for my degree covered by my GI Bill... then I think I need to hold off on the crunches until I can get a fucking handle on the rest of my life.  If I try to add "must do some crunches" to the list of things that need my attention or "must run with Mr. Wonderful so he doesn't get mad at me" I am going to fucking die.

Next week things get a little overwhelming.

Comments are now OPEN! Feel free to comment about your breakups or my breakups or anything else these posts bring up for you!