Open the windows, I need some ventilation…

So, this morning I woke up for work, and James arose with me. I said, “Don’t you have off today?” thinking, he usually has off Thursdays. Even though he had off yesterday, I thought nothing of how he spent it because I was under the impression he also had a day off today. Well, I was wrong about the structure of his schedule, and therefore how he spent his yesterday kind of got under my skin.

He was on the computer all day. I thought, “Good, maybe he spent a couple hours actually searching for employment.” But no such luck. He was playing a game and surfing sports sites and generally not doing much of anything productive at all. Now, I do understand everyone’s need to just waste time occasionally. But at some point during your wasted day, don’t you look at what you’re doing and maybe make the effort to try to do something you should, whether that be laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, job searching, writing, reading, etc. Maybe at least try to accomplish part of your duties? Apparently the male brain does not function so. Or maybe it’s just my husband.

What’s bothering me is not that he took one day to be lazy. What bothers me is the habit of it. It’s not just one day. It happens all the time, which leads me to think that deep down maybe he doesn’t want to leave Blockbuster. Which leads me to think what kind of future Blockbuster can offer us as a family. Which leads me to depression over the look of said future. We will never get out of this too-expensive, too-small apartment. We will never own property. We will never even be able to afford to have children because the $20 I would save every month on birth control doesn’t amount to what you need to spend on children as they grow. Which leaves the pressure of career success on my shoulders, and let me just say that as a poet, I don’t anticipate that any success to come my way will be lucrative enough to support the kind of future I think we both want.

I admit, I’m overreacting just a touch. However, the impression still stands of his inability to leave the Blue World Order, whether out of the cruel hand of Fate, or his own inhibitions. Regardless, we probably need to have a serious talk about his laziness again, which I always hate because my “nagging” (as he sees it), usually only fuels the laziness as opposed to lighting a fire under his ass to drive it away. I plan to be calm and use a lot of “I” words so that he doesn’t feel under attack, like all those self-help communication guides say, but I’m not looking forward to it. Confrontation’s not really my forte. Hopefully there will be good things on the road ahead. For now, it just helped getting it written out.


3 thoughts on “Open the windows, I need some ventilation…

  1. Anonymous says:

    I don’t even know you and I’m amazed at your hypocrisy!

    “…and let me just say that as a poet, I don’t anticipate whatever success would come my way would be lucrative enough to support the kind of future I think we both want.”

    So you’ll nag this new husband of yours to find a job to give you both the life that you want, but you freely admit that YOUR career wouldn’t support you or him as you’d like? What the fuck is your problem??? What makes it OK for you to be free to fuck off writing poetry while he has to improve himself?

    As a woman, it scares me to say that if I were this husband, I’d be finding some divorce papers when the ink isn’t even dry on the marriage license.

  2. Sara says:

    Dear Anonymous,

    As you may know, it is impossible to share the entire scope of one’s life and relationships in a blog on the internet.

    As an artist, I never expect to make a lot of money. I hope as a poet I’ll be able to financially contribute to our life, but I do hold down a job that is unrelated to my art in order to help pay the bills. My husband wants a better career for himself than the one he has now, and we have both talked about what we BOTH want for our future. I want what’s best for him and vice versa. In this entry, I was venting. It happens. It helps me sort out my own thoughts so that I don’t HAVE to nag my husband, because I know it makes him feel bad.

    One more thing, writing poetry is hardly “fucking off.” And I’m really glad you don’t know me because you’re obviously not the kind of friend I’d like to have. Thanks for the input.

  3. Willow says:

    As a woman, I am almost sure your anonymous poster is an embittered man. The multiple question marks. The overuse of the word ‘fuck’. The unreasonable level of alarm.

    Anonymity is the shield of furtive mastubators.


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