My Life on a Plate

Unjust, Unfair, Unhappy.

Too early Tuesday morning, but sleep is not an option when your mind is whirling. I get up to find hubby ironing and clearing his throat continuously, right behind me. Already I want to scream 'Give me some space.' Every five minutes he opens the back door to check the weather; please God, stop it raining so he can go off golfing. Otherwise, I may be driven to murder, and I'm not a violent person.

After two days of trying to remain positive, purposeful and a little more self-disciplined I found myself despairing last night that my life will never be any different. This is maybe not the place to discuss family squabbles but it's for my own personal records too. Maybe I'll need evidence in court one day!

It really started on Sunday evening when hubby did one of his 'standing right behind me inspecting the computer screen' acts. This, followed by the usual interrogations and derogatory comments.

Yesterday morning he came out of the supermarket with a face like thunder. The bill had not been to his liking. Of course, this is due to the 'luxury' items I've put in the trolley. A packet of paracetamol, a sponge and a cheap bottle of bubble bath had been my only additions apart from essential food and cleaning items. Wow, what a life of luxury I lead! Over lunch he concedes it isn't my fault, but the damage is done. He cannot seem to accept that times will change, prices will rise and life never promised to be fair.

He'd spent all morning golfing while I got on with the domestics; I don't pass comment as I appreciate the space. We shopped, had lunch out, dropped in at my parents, unloaded shopping, did some gardening, then I went a bike ride. At 4.30pm I sit at the upstairs computer for a couple of hours writing, surfing and game playing. Immediately he goes into the loft right outside the door and starts clanging and banging about with his model railway up there. (speaks volumes in itself) I grit my teeth, try to ignore the invasive noises as I know I'll be accused of always getting on at him if I say anything. At 6.30pm he leaves the loft to go to the off licence. While he's out I close down the computer, wash the pots, get some tea ready then nip back upstairs to fetch something. He returns, steps through the front door and says, 'God, is SHE still on the computer?' Not well received. Another example of 'put your brain in gear before you open your mouth.'

Early evening is spent watching TV, sorting out files, writing etc - at 10.30pm I return to the computer in the lounge. By this time he is snoring loudly in the chair. As soon as I tap the first key he's awake. An hour later he passes by, curses under his breath then comes out with 'I don't know why you don't move to Canada so you can spend even more time with him.' In retrospect I should have said either 'Okay, give me the fare,' or 'It has crossed my mind as a matter of fact,' but anger sometimes crushes my wit.

There follows yet another heated discussion which achieves nothing as usual. I vow in future I shall remain silent, won't take the bait and let him stew in his own jealous juices. Didn't mean to make this entry so long but there's a lot of tension this morning. Of course, he's full of remorse, but I've been through this scenario too many times now. I see no solution and don't want to think about it, but it's not going to go away is it? Going to have my 'reflexology' session in a minute. It won't solve my problems but it may restore some calm. For the moment. Thanks for getting this far if you have!