Love Is a Myth?

When I am angry, I do not think I have love in my heart. I have hate.

For example, when I have a damn busy day doing all the work which my husband was supposed to do, on top of dealing with sometimes very bratty kids, and then I forgot to write paycheck because I was dealing with all other crap, and then I get a phone from said husband acting all put out because I did not remember….

Why the fuck didn’t he write the check himself between watching TV, and demanding me to rub his head? Dick head! I am so damned tired of feeling guilty because I worry something might have happened to him, guilty again because his royal assness is unhappy he forgot about the paycheck…

Why do I have to remember everything around here. Why can’t he use part of his brain to remember something related to his job? Maybe he should talk less about religion he was never really serious about keeping in the first place and start thinking more about things like paycheck. And he couldn’t be bothered to drive through the bank to deposit a check?

I am not even going to rant about not having orgasm anymore. It’s always about him. I said I do not mind, well, yeah, I didn’t mind when I thought it was going to be only 5 times out of 6 I wouldn’t get orgasm, it turns out that I am not going to get any at all. WTF! I need orgasm too…and I would really prefer to have sex in which all the dick pumping doesn’t end up in a 3 second orgasm. Oh, BTW, if I want orgasm, I should make him cum once and then work again to make sure he cums that much slower the second time. Like I have all the time in the world between doing all his laundry? I have never seen a person generate 6 pairs of dirty clothes after he had shower, sit and watch TV and went to bed. Seriously! I think I am being too nice. If I had started out this marriage bitchy in the beginning, then maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t end up doing all the drudgery work around the house. Fuck that!

Fuck wordpress too for not spell checking…so now I have bad grammar on top of bad spellling!

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