7-10-17

I've officially reached the saturation point for his stupidity. in People suck. Cats are awesome. Dogs are alright.

•  July 10, 2017, 9:48 a.m.
 
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• Public

So the Male has been noticeably trying to be less argumentative; and by asking him a lot of direct questions, I’ve slowly chiseled out a basic grasp of his moronic problem, and the cause of his “stress”. (And a lot of his answers were yelled at me in exasperation, like I was supposed to somehow already know all of this stupidity. As if anybody in their right mind would have a problem like his.)

This dip!@#$ wants to buy EVERYTHING that he wants to have to re-do the house AT ONCE. Wallpaper, ceiling tile, cabinets, counters, bathroom fixtures, paint, carpet, the works. The idea of spending $40 for a delivery fee from Menards more than once is unfathomable to his tiny, little brain. And I quote: “I could wind up spending $160 in delivery fees! No!” (- Um, newsflash, nitwit. You’re not Miss Cleo. You aren’t psychic. You’re going to have to make at least two trips, or I’m the Easter Bunny. )

I spent some time touting all of the reasons that this a foolhardy idea, and all it got me was him sitting there with his head in his hands as if he was beyond exasperated. Like I’m the one whose failing to comprehend here. (Um, no. If there’s one thing that I am, it’s grounded.)

For one, there’s no way in hell that there won’t be unforseen things that he’ll need, and have to make a second trip for, no matter how well he plans. (He’s made the list five times, he says. Apparently shopping lists and realistic thinking aren’t his forte; and if I’m the more realistic thinker in any given situation, something is very wrong. He can remake that list a hundred times; THERE ARE ALWAYS, I repeat, ALWAYS unforseen things.)

For two, he wants to do it all over his one week vacation. - I bet I told him a dozen times that there is no way you’re going to be able to do all of that in seven freaking days! I told him to pick one or two projects that he wants to get done the most, and do the rest on weekends. - This moron just shakes his head. - Look dude, even the fastest contractor in the world couldn’t do all of that crap, all by himself, in one week flat. - Give. The. F!@#. Up.

For three, there are other things we need, besides thousands of dollars in home remodeling crap. Like new shoes, for example. His are literally falling apart, and he says “I don’t know if they’ll hold up that long!”, like he’s genuinely worried about it. - Like dude. Buy. The. F!@#ing. Shoes. - The $35 for a new pair of Wal-Mart shoes isn’t going to break you. - But he just has to get all of that stuff from Menards first, before anything else, even at the cost of having blisters on his feet. (Can we say “compromised mental faculties”, anyone?)

I talked to him until I was practically blue in the face, trying to convince him that two or three trips are unavoidable, and to just roll with it. But he has this grand, ridiculous, idea that is inevitably destined to come crashing down in an unrecognizable pile of disappointment.

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And in the mean time I don’t think I “love” him any more. So I’ve quit saying that word; because he’s too f!@#ing stupid, and refuses to listen to reason.

There isn’t an “us” any more.

There’s just him, and his massive pile of money, and what he deems me worthy to have; like some miserly old uncle.

Oh yeah, and I got huffed at for asking for printer ink, so I could make more art prints, cards, and bookmarks. He had been talking about how hard it was for him to save enough money, because “things keep popping up!”; and when I mentioned that I still need ink, he said, “See! That’s another thing popping up!”.

(Insert emote with red eyes and smoke pouring out of its ears, here.)

F!@# you, moron.

So sometime between now and Christmas; I’ll get to witness his soul crushing, unavoidable, disappointment; as he has a metric ton of wood, and carpet, and ceiling tile, and fixtures, and who knows what else delivered, only to realize, as some of us already knew looong before, that his imperfect human brain gasp! FAILED TO PRECOGNIZE EVERY SINGLE THING!

I mean seriously.

I honestly didn’t think that he was that stupid.

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There are houses here up for auction every month, starting at around three thousand dollars. Some of them are pretty spiffy. (Yay for the urban rust belt.) My plan has long been: Get my settlement, look at the auction list, pick out houses, do my “due diligence” on them, (wiring, demolition orders, occupancy, ect.), attend the auction, and bid on any that pass muster. Rinse and repeat until I have a bigger, neater, house; then move and sell this one.

I’ve now altered that plan to include the additional: If my opinion of him doesn’t radically improve between now and then, let him have this house, and leave his big, hairy, butt here.

I have had it.