Manics typically don't sleep much. They're usually pumped so full of adrenaline that sleep isn't an easy thing to come by. According to the husband, he can lay in bed for hours and never feel tired.
Except when we need to talk.
The second we sit down to talk about us or the children or anything that doesn't involve daily schematics, his eyes start closing. If I'm looking for emotion or any sort of participation other than the occasional grunt, he loses consciousness.
But guess what?
The second I say "fuck it" and leave the room, his eyes pop open and he can magically play computer games again! It's a genuine fucking miracle!
In short, the guy is a douche. And if he is too rough with my kids or tells me to fuck off one more time I'm going to do things to his body that will ensure procreation to be an absolute impossibility for him.
I am tired of talking to a catatonic brick wall.
I deserve so much more than a self-absorbed selfish child who can't treat his family with respect for more than a week's amount of time.
I am so full of venom toward that apathetic asshole that it's frightening.
Fuck.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment