Fine. I understand my natural state is catatonic on the couch. I've decided a month ago I want to redo my living room (I'm stuck in it, it's my prison cell). For a month I have made detailed lists on cleaning, dusting, painting, funiture re-upolser, taking up the rug, painting the floor, and getting an area rug. For more than a month, I've talked about painting because the wall under the air unit filled with water, had to be torn down, it was half rebuilt (slum lord), and the rug is mildewed from that as well as bathroom overflows through the years. I have shared every part of all of my ideas with my husband, who was so giving me carte blanch on whatever I wanted to do, and my mom, who was cheering me on. Hubbie and I go and get the tools to cut up the rug. I was so excited, called my mom, who I thought was just as excited, and she was negative, having my back and it's like she takes the wind out of my sails.
I had only just begun, hubby came home during lunch, I emailed him before, he knew I was starting today, I told him it was gross. He came home and said nothing, then called me later from work and decided to snipe me (explsive temper, like my dad had, will shut me up and have me crying and apologising, cow towing, and cowering). I wasn't having. I exploded.
I was screaming on the phone, and i was bloody right.
Why do I have to break down in order for people to take me seriously?!
:cussing: :cussing: :cussing: :cussing: :cussing:
I had only just begun, hubby came home during lunch, I emailed him before, he knew I was starting today, I told him it was gross. He came home and said nothing, then called me later from work and decided to snipe me (explsive temper, like my dad had, will shut me up and have me crying and apologising, cow towing, and cowering). I wasn't having. I exploded.
I was screaming on the phone, and i was bloody right.
Why do I have to break down in order for people to take me seriously?!
:cussing: :cussing: :cussing: :cussing: :cussing: