I learned something yesterday, there is ONE slightly good thing about menopausal rages. They can actually scare asshole husbands into submission...
Hubby has been pouty and pissy about the hours I've been keeping at the old J.O.B. He tried to say that he 'felt' (like he actually has feelings) that I loved my job more than my family. Truth be told in man language this means - "I miss you being at my beck and call and having dinner on the table every single night and having to fend for myself because I am a lazy male and can't do or think for myself."
His childish antics haven't exactly been sitting well with me for several reasons. First, the last time I looked we pretty much make the same amount of money and I'd be just as happy to live on his salary and be the diva I deserve to be. Second, the last time I looked I was not his personal slave and at the age of 50 the man should be able to make a meal or two on his own, pick up after himself and take care of a 15 year old kid. Third, what makes him think I ENJOY the hours I've been keeping? Yep, I really want to work 12 hour days and deal with idiots until my head explodes, it's my passion. Men are so stupid.
He made the random mistake yesterday afternoon of asking me a smart-ass question. "Are you planning on going to C3's district track meet or are you planning on working late, again?"
Oh. No. He. Didn't!
All my bottled up hormonal rage came pouring out, loud and clear, over the telephone, sitting in my office, with employees running for cover. It was not pretty. But it worked, for the time being, and I am back on top of my diva pedestal and being treated like the queen I am. So today my plan is to take a long afternoon nap, with the air turned down, and the thunderstorms rocking me to sleep and Hubby will get off work in time to pick C3 up at school. Ahhh... feeling better already.
Score one menopausal rage.
2017: We're still standing, so far.
1 month ago