Him: Do we have any clean washcloths?
Me There's one of mine, fresh out of the wash, over on the chair.
Him: Oh . . . well I guess I could wash it with anti-bacterial soap before I use it.
Me: (Really fucking insulted) You know what? Never mind, find your own washcloth.
Him: What? What is your problem? You are so impossible.
He never misses a chance to insult my hygiene and call me filthy or dirty, or tell me my toenails are too long and very gross. Tired of the nitpicking.
There is so much stupid little stuff. And most of it is passive aggressive. It's the only language he knows. And it is all my fault for not communicating in a timely manner or not taking a shower.
The pain goes away, mostly when he is asleep. When it gets close to him getting up, the pain comes back. When he gets up, the pain is at its worst, and that is when he has me running around waiting on him. About15 minutes after he leaves, so does the pain. I'm pain free right now. I give that another 45 minutes until it's time for him to get home.
He doesn't know I've hit the apathy switch. If I hadn't, I would have been awake all night stewing on the things I was mad at him for. Hit the switch, get a good night's sleep. Wake up fresh in the morning, ready to keep my attitude in check, because I just don't care.
Piss, it's tuesday.