Day 8....

... It gets worse before it gets better

Shit got real today... Clearly, she must have thought I was bullshitting her about this whole thing.
It snowed like a prick last night... I was working until seven, and the plan was to go out with Big Cat. That is the Saturday Fucking Ritual. Work. Bar. Sleepy Time. But we were planning on changing it up a bit by going to Concord to see Boondock Saints II...

We got a couple of bottles of booze, and were ready to do the thing, but the snow complicated shit a tad.. The Swamp Thing is rockin' bald front tires, and I couldn't get through to the theater for show times. Not to mention the bar would almost certainly be a dead scene, and we're gakked up to the bejesus. So we decide to stay at the fuckin' Lab. The phone starts blowing up with the whole Why don't you just come home? You don't need to hang out with Jay nonsense. Except this time... it's "because the kids miss you"... Cool, Bitch.. Keep playing the kids against me. This is an example of the shit. I come home every single fucking night. And the one night a week I go out, you lay the fucking guilt trip on me? No. Nothing changes. No apologies. Let me talk to Katie.... No. She's mad at you...I finally get her to let me talk to my nine year old daughter long enough to tell her that the roads are dogshit, and I'm sleeping over at Uncle Jayson's house.. and I will take her out Sunday night when I get out of work.. That does the trick. But now I fuming about the way this situation was handled. Just another symptom of her fucking condition.... Long story short, there may have been some drunken shenanigans and I leave the Lab at seven in the morning and go home for an hour of shut eye before work.

I get out of work. Go home to We need to talk about all this.. Wait.. What do we need to talk about? Apparently, she thought we were just "fighting", and that I wasn't really serious about kicking her to the fucking curb. WRONG. Yes, I want a divorce. No, This isn't fixable. Yes, I am comfortable with that. I am enlightened... She goes from livid to distraught, back to pissed and around to I'm going to kill myself again..... This is too much. Whether or not she legitimately intends on ending her own life is irrelevant. The part that bothers me is saying this shit in close enough proximity to the kids so that they are within earshot. I go off on a rant. The previous blog posts rant. Layed it all out on Front St... Droppin knowledge, son. Articulate and venomous.. I can honestly say that I was not shocked by her inability to grasp what I was trying to tell her. She's getting all up in my shit, bawling Why don't you love me anymore? I'll die without you... Nonsense. I'm done. Twelve years of trying to nudge her forward has become a futile enterprise that I am no longer willing to take part in. And the kids are now crying, because their self-centered, arrogant, cunt of a mother is crying her eyes out and yelling about how she isn't going to live and nothing matters....

Great. Just the stupid, immature bullshit they need to hear come out of their mother's fucking cake hole. My little girls are now worried that their mother is going to commit suicide, and it's all Daddy's fault....To be continued...