Do you know how pissed I am?

Well my husband just quit his job. A customer chewed his ass and he didn’t think he deserved it, so he quit on the spot. And how do I know this less than two hours later…

He calls me and says, “Do you have any errands you want me to run now that I have my days free?”

We are barely over the last hiccup with the truck that almost sent us to the homeless shelter. And now the budget will be short about $900/month. “Don’t worry,” he tells me. “I’m going to pick up a couple of extra hours at my other part-time job.”

I’m feeling sick to my stomach and I just want to scream at him, “Have you ever fucking considered finding another job before you quit! Could you not suck it up for one god damn day? Were you thinking about your family when you quit or just pissed of at the client?” I’m trying not to cry at work again. I hate crying period but people who cry at work are pathetic.

The good news is he will never hear the above rant. I know how words can wound and once they have left your lips and cut like a knife, they can’t be recalled and the damage undone. Sometimes Big Daddy hates that he can’t engage me in a shouting match. But I won’t do it. I only occasionally loose control and scream at the girls but it has to be something pretty serious to cause me to lose control.

Sometimes I wish I could shout the angry words at him. I fear he might not realize how angry I am at him. But I can’t, not with my upbringing. I was beaten with words all of my childhood. And the child that speaks back, get beat back.

I wish he could have kept the news to himself until I got home. Now that I think about it, he sounded happy. Its like he got some kind of joy out of ruining my day.