Good? Bad?

"I'm the guy with the gun!" If that moody asshole continues to call me at insane hours from 10,000 miles away just to give me a list of shit he's pissed off about or that he wants me to do, I'm gonna be the BITCH with a gun! And I'm bringing it to the Welcome Home Ceremony, baby! Leave me the fuck alone!

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I bring out this psychotic bi-polar side of my husband or maybe it's his NTBS (no tolerance for bullshit) kicking in and I just happen to be in the line of fire. All I know is that one phone call is "OH, baby, I love you and I miss you and I'm so proud of you and I'm so lucky to have to you." Blah, blah, blah. And the next call is, "What the fuck did you do that for? And where's my goddamn dip? Didn't you send it?"

MAKE UP YOUR FUCKING MIND!!!

Either I'm the greatest thing since the wheel or I'm a useless ass-wipe. Decide. You are making me insane! And believe me, I do NOT need any help with that! I am perfectly capable of becoming insane on my own, fuck you very much!

I love my husband. . . I love my husband. . . I love my husband. . . I love my husband. . . I love my husband. . . If I keep repeating it, maybe I won't yell at him next time he calls or try to kill him when he gets home. That would be bad. There are lots of people at Welcome Home Ceremonies--hence, lots of witnesses!!

I do love my husband. I really do. And when he is good, he is very, very good, but when he is bad, he is HORRID!!! And then I hate him. And want him to die. Slowly. Painfully. In front of me.

Oh well. Another day, another chance for a phone call from my love. And who will it be today? The good one? The bad one? It's like playing Russian roulette picking up the phone when he calls. It could go either way.

So today was happy day. In fact, he used the word "chipper" which is fucking scary. Who the hell are you and God help me the next time you call. I'm sure it will be Asshole Husband calling and not Nice Guy Husband.

Fuck me.