cellini's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Line in the Sand This morning I threw down the gauntlet. After both kids were gone (Harry is spending the day with Trish's father) I told her that she either cleans her shit up for I am leaving her and moving out. You know, she hasn't done any laundry in about a week. It all just piles up. The entire kitchen is stacked with dirty dishes and the floor is thick with dirt, dust and hair that is stirred up as one walks by. What did she spend all day yesterday on? Painting the fucking living room. Painting it with random frivolous elaborate crap that she will never actually finish (the house is covered with these aborted painting projects). I've just had it. I don't even give a shit about her feelings any more. She is almost certainly curled up on the floor and sobbing right now. I don't care. I told her that she isn't pulling her weight, that I've been putting up with her shit for my entire adult life and that she keeps getting worse and worse and that I'm not prepared to continue with it indefinitely. I said that either she gets her shit together or I will move out. And I meant it. 9:16 a.m. - 2010-03-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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