Saturday, November 23, 2002
he knows I'm really angry, but I don't think he knows how angry, and disappointed in him.
we had to move today. yes, it should have happened two weeks ago, but despite our (mostly my) efforts we couldn't find a place until now.
so he had one f'n job. to book a trailer or van so we could minimise the number of runs.
I left here at 8 am. he was still in bed. I got my shot (in the hip; it still hurt) at 8.30, had a coffee and by 9.30 was packing the car at our old house. meanwhile, he's at this temporary place, wandering around with phone books and going to LOOK AT trailers for f's sake. what a waste of time.
the day is getting hotter and hotter, and I'm struggling with getting heavy objects into the car all by myself.
at about 11 he rings and says "what about a one-tonne van?" this is after the car is full, and obviously said van isn't going to be got for another hour or so. we end up with nothing but the crappy shallow trailer his parents own. I suspect this is all happening partly because he doesn't want to spend the money on a van. yes, we can afford it.
I'm not supposed to be under stress. I'm feeling very teary (hormones?) and I thought how nice it would have been to have him at the house with a large van at 9.30 so we could pack that, drive to the temp. place, pack there and then just unload it all in one go. and he says "sorry" and things like that but it doesn't make up for the fact I'm now here packing the car along again while he's at the old house trying to get beds into the trailer by himself. and I don't care. (the phone just rang; it's him asking for the address so he can get an insurance cover note. this was the only other task assigned to him; get insurance, get trailer. BEFORE we move.
maybe I'm overreacting but I feel so very badly let down by this - and this after he told me to stop asking him to do it, he'd run his own company, he was perfectly capably etc - that I could just f'n well walk out the door. all I want is for him to do what he promises to do, to take an interest in what's needed. I tried not to feel responsible for the whole move, and this is what happened. if I'd just taken charge and got a van and told him when and where to collect it, it would have been so much better. but I was getting shots and scans and taking the lease down to the agents and talking to the tradesman and getting power and gas and the phone on and writing lists of all the stuff we needed in the house, and working all week. this is objectively not fair and unbelievably inconsiderate behaviour. what a waste of time. and I keep thinking of how stress interferes with ovulation, and that makes me feel even more stressed. has he not realised what is actually happening this fortnight? that this is a crucial time and he should be looking after me, not fucking up my weekend and leaving me spending every night next week unpacking at the new flat?
so I came back here to have a rest and pack, but it was too late in the day to nap. so I just drank half a can of coke and ate a handful of chocolate to keep me going and now I hate myself for that and I feel frozen, like I can't move and I just want to cry. it's either hormones or a nervous breakdown...
we had to move today. yes, it should have happened two weeks ago, but despite our (mostly my) efforts we couldn't find a place until now.
so he had one f'n job. to book a trailer or van so we could minimise the number of runs.
I left here at 8 am. he was still in bed. I got my shot (in the hip; it still hurt) at 8.30, had a coffee and by 9.30 was packing the car at our old house. meanwhile, he's at this temporary place, wandering around with phone books and going to LOOK AT trailers for f's sake. what a waste of time.
the day is getting hotter and hotter, and I'm struggling with getting heavy objects into the car all by myself.
at about 11 he rings and says "what about a one-tonne van?" this is after the car is full, and obviously said van isn't going to be got for another hour or so. we end up with nothing but the crappy shallow trailer his parents own. I suspect this is all happening partly because he doesn't want to spend the money on a van. yes, we can afford it.
I'm not supposed to be under stress. I'm feeling very teary (hormones?) and I thought how nice it would have been to have him at the house with a large van at 9.30 so we could pack that, drive to the temp. place, pack there and then just unload it all in one go. and he says "sorry" and things like that but it doesn't make up for the fact I'm now here packing the car along again while he's at the old house trying to get beds into the trailer by himself. and I don't care. (the phone just rang; it's him asking for the address so he can get an insurance cover note. this was the only other task assigned to him; get insurance, get trailer. BEFORE we move.
maybe I'm overreacting but I feel so very badly let down by this - and this after he told me to stop asking him to do it, he'd run his own company, he was perfectly capably etc - that I could just f'n well walk out the door. all I want is for him to do what he promises to do, to take an interest in what's needed. I tried not to feel responsible for the whole move, and this is what happened. if I'd just taken charge and got a van and told him when and where to collect it, it would have been so much better. but I was getting shots and scans and taking the lease down to the agents and talking to the tradesman and getting power and gas and the phone on and writing lists of all the stuff we needed in the house, and working all week. this is objectively not fair and unbelievably inconsiderate behaviour. what a waste of time. and I keep thinking of how stress interferes with ovulation, and that makes me feel even more stressed. has he not realised what is actually happening this fortnight? that this is a crucial time and he should be looking after me, not fucking up my weekend and leaving me spending every night next week unpacking at the new flat?
so I came back here to have a rest and pack, but it was too late in the day to nap. so I just drank half a can of coke and ate a handful of chocolate to keep me going and now I hate myself for that and I feel frozen, like I can't move and I just want to cry. it's either hormones or a nervous breakdown...
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