I posted this crazy long message about my super fun weekend in Bricktown.
I went out with some girls from work.
And we had a blast. We had a few drinks, I did not get drunk. (it's just not me) We went to a couple of bars and stayed up a little too late for the conference we had the next day.
Archer was at my cousins because the plan was to go to another friend's on Saturday who has a baby close to his age. We ended up not going, but I'll elaborate later.
The next night I had plans with my bff (and I'm not trying to be cliche, it's just easier to type that than my best friend of 20 years) and another good friend to go out for dinner. They wanted to go back to Bricktown, but I needed to see my baby.
My husband tried to call on our way home from dinner. I didn't hear him because we were driving and talking. After that, he wouldn't answer. He wouldn't talk to me because I didn't answer. Apparently that's what I always do when I'm with them.
Let me say, I am a call screener, but at this point haven't seen my husband in a few days and want to hear his voice. But of course I did it on purpose. (Even though I called back in 3 minutes)
Later that night when I got arch home (to my bff's) and in bed, he wake up crying from gas pains. He does this for 2 hours since the medicine wasn't working.
I decided to cancel the plans with my other friend and her baby because he was feeling a little feverish and just wasn't himself.
We get home-home about 130-2 and the husband seems to be over his shitty attitude. As soon as I start to drift into a daze (one because I'm tired as hell, and two because of the crap he's watching) he's pissed all over again. He's saying, I told you not to come home tired. Well hell, would you rather me stayed gone an extra day?
We bickered for a better part of the day.
Today: Arch is staying at my ms for the 3rd time ever. We talked about going to see shutter island tomorrow, but since my mom asked if he could stay we decided last night today would be perfect.
He's in a crap mood again because he gained weight after overeating last night. Then he's just running his mouth about me making pork roast tomorrow.
Ok, that doesn't go well for me. If I'm cooking your damn food, eat it or cook your own.
When I walk away instead of responding to his joke, I'm pmsing. That's why we've been arguing all weekend, because I'm pmsing. I think freaking not.
He's was asking me all day yesterday what's wrong with me when I just space out. Well yesterday, first day of spring break, I ran errands all day. I just want to relax.
And of course, he forgot the movie.
And, he asked me just now what my problem is. Really it's nothing stop asking me. I'm not doing anything. His response? I didn't say you were. Hmm. Asking what's wrong with me kind of implies that, in my book anyway.
Ugh. I'm done. Thanks for reading if you made it this far.
Ps, if you're wondering where the initial post about my night out is, I was in the middle of composing it when he called and it didn't save.
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