**Caution: this post is going to be negative. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. You were warned.
Let's start with yesterday. It was a lovely day--beautiful weather (in the 80's), I got to spend the morning playing tourist with my dear friend and former Zone Leader Sam Aubin, who is visiting from Germany. I learned several new things about Temple Square, we went to lunch @ The Pie near the U, and I felt like I looked pretty nice (makeup, clothing, etc.--I was actually put-together). I went up to Benji's school afterward and had a little chat with his teachers. He is doing very well; he understands more than I give him credit for, and they don't let him get away with things like we do. I need to work on that, and I need to make a communication book. There are supposed to be some cool tools like that on iPads, which he would love, but which we definitely cannot afford right now. :o(
So I was feeling pretty good when we left school. I decided to take Benji to a park to let him play for a little while. I took him to the potty before we did anything. He went #1, then he played on the structure, and although I was a little sleepy, I thought I was keeping a fairly good eye on him. That was, until I heard some kid say, "It smells like poo." Having heard that, I got up and went for a closer look. Yep--he was finger painting. I took him back to the car, stripped him down and wiped him off the best I could, then put a towel on the carseat and strapped him in. Then I had to take some wipes back to the playground to clean up his mess. Thankfully there wasn't too much, but I was seriously annoyed.
I took him home and put him in the shower. Later that afternoon, he had a meltdown--inconsolable crying and kicking and thrashing, which is one thing with a two-year-old, but is something else when you have a 55+ pound, very strong four-year-old hitting you. This went on for about 20 minutes, making me wonder if he was in pain, because he can't tell us what's going on. Then he stopped, and he was fine. I don't get it. I hope you parents out there can appreciate your child being able to tell you why he or she is crying, BECAUSE IT SUCKS WHEN HE CAN'T. You feel totally helpless.
Then, Allen told me that the loan for the house has gone through and they are signing the papers THIS Thursday instead of next Thursday. I said, "But I have to work," and he said, "You don't have to be there." Okay . . . I understand that my name is not on the loan, but I thought it was going to be on the house. Am I wrong to be pissed about this? Buying a house is kind-of a big deal, and I would like to be there. Apparently, Allen doesn't think it's important that I am. And to me, that's just more proof that he doesn't care. This house would be the ONLY thing he has done (on his own) to take care of Benji and me if anything should happen to him. He doesn't have life insurance, he doesn't have a 401K, he doesn't have a will. I, on the other hand, do have life (and health) insurance on him, on me, and on Benji. I shell out for it every paycheck. I have a 401K. There's not a ton of money there, but enough to get him by for a few months, at least. I am trying to prepare for the future financially, and I personally paid $1,000 in earnest money as part of our down payment (my dad helped with the rest--he is such a wonderful man). But I don't have to be there. Yeah.
Oh--and back to last Saturday. He got up at 4:30am to go hunting with his friend Aaron. Last week was incredibly busy for me, and I had to volunteer @ the Hilltop sale on Saturday morning, so Benji had to go to the Lake's house. Whatever--they are great with Benji, and he likes going there. Allen got back in time for me to go the the Relief Society General Meeting with Lexy and Desi, but as soon as I got home, Allen went to bed (leaving the house a disaster, as usual). So I got to put Benji to bed, then clean, then go to work at 11pm. I worked all night, and it was a really crappy shift that felt like it would never end. I got home around 7:30am Sunday morning, and Benji was awake in his room (having wet the bed, totally soaked) and Allen was still asleep. So I got Benji up and put him in the shower, and Allen appeared. I was in a really bad mood, so he asked me what was wrong. I told him I needed to sleep, and he asked, "Why didn't you get any sleep?" Seriously? Yes, I stay up late sometimes (which many times includes cleaning, like 1+1/2 hours worth tonight), but I pick up extra shifts, and I get home late. Anyway, I slept for a couple of hours, but I was woken up by a call from my Visiting Teaching Supervisor, who asked me if I had done my VT for the month. Nope. She told me I could probably call them that day, but I told her it wasn't going to happen. I sure love that guilt-trip every month, reminding me of what a slacker I am.
Then we went to Logan for the afternoon on Sunday (that's another post). Allen wanted me to drive, since he was having allergy problems because of some mosquito bites he got while he was out hunting. Um, no. I was utterly exhausted from working all night, so I told him he needed to drive up, and I would drive back. That worked okay, but I know I almost fell asleep while driving. We got home around 9:30pm on Sunday, then I had to work 12 hours on Monday. At least Tuesday morning was nice.
Then today I had to work another 12. I also volunteered to bring a side dish to Katie's Bridal Shower at work. I got Benji up and took him to the bathroom, but he wouldn't go. I waited for around 10 minutes for him to finally go, but he never did. So I got him dressed and ready and realized we would totally miss his bus. I had to drive him up to the school, but we were too early. So we stopped at Smith's to get the stuff for the Cranberry salad I was going to make. Then I took him to school and came home to make the salad. It took me a good 90 minutes to make this salad (enough to cut into my primping time, so I look really rough today), and I brought it to work with me at 11am. When I finally got to sit down for a few minutes (around 2pm), basically no one had eaten it. It really sucks when all of your efforts are wasted. Then at 3pm I was put in Dr. Zempoloch's room. She is usually very nice, but I couldn't do anything right there, either. So I was in a less-than-talkative mood. People kept asking me if I was okay, but seriously--can't I just have an "off" day? Do I have to be perky all the time? Plus, I'm feeling the guilt for not scrubbing Liver transplants. I think they did 3 in the last week, and I was asked by several people if I do scrub them. I did, but that was one of the major reasons why I left IMC in 2010. I was totally burned out from taking all of the implant call and doing them all the time. I like my job, and I don't want to become that person again by growing to resent it, but should that be priority over the hospital's needs? I'm sure I could scrub one if I had to; I just don't want to. And yes, that makes me feel like a slacker, too.
I'm just really down on myself today. I'm tired and poor and unwanted and ugly and nothing more than a housekeeper, babysitter and source of income for my husband. We are together out of convenience: that's pretty much the only reason why we are still together. It's certainly not because we are on the same team, because we are not. We think very differently, and he hardly thinks of me at all. I'm certainly not his first priority, and he isn't mine, either. We don't make each other happy; we don't even really like spending time together. Allen does what he does and expects me to be fine with it. I guess I do the same. I just wish he thought enough about how I feel to make sure I could be there at the signing. Yes, I told him I wasn't happy about it, but that doesn't matter. Nothing I do really matters. I just work here.
