Dogs, Dirt and Partners

I’m here to moan, to vent, to be so fucking angry the words will burn holes into the computer/mobile screen. 

So I will sound whiney, bitchy and negative and my partner will be recreated here as a villain, a tool, a jerk, a douche, a moron, a sociopath… all the things I see him as when I lose my shit… when the veil of angry denies me any rational behaviour, any space to step away and see sense. 

This is what my writing, my entries, will be, because if they’re not then my anger is not controlled, it seeps into my real life, my real relationship and it will fester deep within our relationship and it will spoil our relationship. So better off being a whiney bitch here than elsewhere. 

Men are stupid… okay massive generalisation but it seems less hurtful than say my partner is fucking stupid. So I’ll be using the pronoun ‘they’ but really it’s just ‘he’. Sorry men. 

They operate on a totally different level, it’s pouring with rain, our garden is basically a mud bath. Let the dog out… let him in. They see this as their good deed for the day, ‘usually she does it but I’m saving her a job’, glowing sense of achievement, warm feeling of helping. Check. 

Fuck you. I see it as Let the dog out, dog runs around madly, playing in the mud, digging his favourite hole… let him in, let him run through the kitchen, into the hallway and to his food bowl… leaving a clear trail of mud on the floor and carpet that even the most inept dective could follow! I then have to clean said mess as they eat their breakfast, staring at their phone… oblivious to my quiet rage and hints in the form of my polite request that they never ever ever ever ever let the dog out again. That’s my job, not theirs… as so many things are in our house. 

I know deep down in my soul he does things like this, not on purpose, but because he is a lesser person than me, he needs me to survive basically… which is a lie as he survived 28yrs without me… so he did do it on purpose!! I FUCKING KNEW IT!!