sometimes i write so i don't fucking scream.

scott had the day off. awesome. i wish i did, especially since it was raining when i left today and he was cuddled on the couch with the dogs. it was tough to leave because they all looked so cute and comfy. i should be accustomed to scott not doing fucking anything around this house unless i specifically ask him to but, amazingly, i let myself be surprised every time it happens. i come home after stopping at two different places to get the beer he wants (not with cash, like we promised we would shop) (plus he knows good and well i'm not drinking right now so why the fuck would i need to get the beer) and come home to a house with no fucking lights on, the tv on Fox "news" channel (like it always is - i swear to god it's propaganda and scott eats it up), and his shop looks really clean.... meanwhile everything he hasn't thrown out is now crowded in the garage (THAT IS NOT CLEANING, SCOTT, THAT IS JUST MOVING THINGS) and, lo and goddamn behold, he has only done one thing in my house today and that's load the dishwasher. a four second chore... i will not say thank you for that even though i am actively practicing gratitude right now. the kitchen counter is a mess and it took me less than one full minute to straighten it. i don't care if he doesn't care if the house is straightened up. i care so sometimes he needs to fucking care. i'm not pleased to be so worked up about what amounts to nothing but here i am anyway. at least i'm writing instead of yelling or sulking; both tactics are classic melissa  and neither is fair nor compelling. he doesn't see this and maybe i shouldn't either but sometimes when things like this happen i think he must not give a shit about me at all. he knew i was on my way home - i texted him as much. and he knew i was going out of my way to do a favor for him on my way home. call me crazy, but shouldn't he have been ready for me to get here? like do what you want all day - it's your fucking day - but when you know that in 25-35 minutes i'll be here turn on the motherfucking lights. straighten up the fucking kitchen counter. make a plan for all the shit you just put in the garage. have the dogs out and peed already. WHY. DO. I. HAVE. TO. DO. ANYTHING. THE. MOMENT. I. GET. HERE. WHEN. YOU'VE. BEEN. HOME. ALL. GODDAMN. DAY. i'm sure i'll come back to read this and be very embarrassed.