And Here's The Fucking Bread Again!

I worked until late today. Came home at a quarter to 8:00. Ex had told me this weekend that, when I came home, he would get cash from me, take the purple passion (the Nissan), and fill up its tank (I can't open the little door to the gas tank. It's stuck, and he has to pry it open).

I was already wondering if he was home, ready to yell at me for being so late, and messing up his whole routine. O you know, getting his uniform ready for tomorrow, making his sandwich, and eating dinner. Yes, I do believe each task takes enormous effort, and lots of mental concentration. What a horse's ass.

Anyhoo...I see he called me at 6:50 on the cell (which, of course, I left home...He used it last night, as he's been doing for a while now, and I forgot to put it in my purse, where I always expect it to be). I call him up, he tells me that he's just pulling in the driveway.

He comes in bearing a boat-load of crap from Pathmark. I walk in the kitchen, and notice there is some unidentified item in one of the kitties' plates that looks a whole lot like vomit, and I immediately think either Sushi or Sashimi is feeling sick.

As I am examining the paper plate, and asking if it looks like regurgitated food, he's asking where the loaf of bread on top of the stove came from. Obviously, I don't care about the damned bread. I just want to know what kind of crap either one of the cats ate, and potentially threw up. He starts with the "mother fucker, I'm asking you where you got this bread", and I just thank myself for leaving his sorry ass.

It didn't end there though. He proceeded to scream when he asked if I had gotten gas, and I responded that he told me he was going to do it. Besides, I can't open the gas tank door, and he knows that! He yelled some more, cursed, told me I am irresponsible, blah blah blah, I'm going to have a miserable future when I leave this house, he's happy that he's made the decision to divorce/leave me, and so on and so on.

At this point, I decide to have a little fun. I mean, why not? I told him he didn't decide to leave me. I did. I filed for divorce first. He said, no, he's the one who decided to leave me. Really? And here's the weird conversation that ensued during the argument, which reminds me how I've lowered myself to his level far too many times! At one point, he gets confused as to who asked whom for the divorce, eheheh

Ex: By God I am so happy you get out from my life!

Me: Good.

Ex: Because I know, I understood 100 percent you have no responsibility. This is the main reason I left you.

Me: You didn’t leave me. I divorced you!

Ex: No no

Me: I’m the one leaving you!

Ex: Me, is the one who decision-don’t say like this thing.

Me: Wait…

Ex: I get rid of you, chally!

Me: How?

Ex: Do not say those things!

Me: How did you get rid of me?

Ex: Do not say that thing!

Me: How did you get rid of me?

Ex: Do not say that thing!

Me: So that means the excuse that I’m the one who caused this-is actually you caused it. Cause you’re saying that you got rid of me. That means, you asked for the divorce, not me.

Ex: Who asked then?

Me: You did.

Ex: Why you now put…upside down…thing…like, like that?

Me: Because that’s what you just said! That you left me! That means you divorced me!

Ex: No! You keep saying that you did that.

Me: Then what are you trying to say? At first, you say that you’re the one who left me. That means you divorced me. Then other ways, you say I’m the reason-I’m the one who wanted the divorce, not you.

Ex: Yeah chally…

Me: So, I’m sorry, you can’t have it both ways! Either you did it, or I did it. Right now, you told me you did it.

Ex: No, by paper you did it! But who? Who?

Me: That doesn’t make any sense.

Ex: Who did this one? Who decided this one?

Me: We both did. You signed the papers, and I signed the papers. Are you not making sense right now?

Ex: But you have no responsibility in your life!

Me: What does that have to do with anything?!

Really, I married this man? What the hell was I thinking!