Ninapintasantamaria's Blog











about how I get hot thinking about men who can hit the hamper, the trash can, and the dishwasher/sink with total accuracy. Made him think, I can tell you. Think about more ways to piss me off. Like walking right by the trash next to the door and me having to holler “Hey, take that on your way out!” Or yell at me (from the room right next to the baby’s) to go take care of him. When I tell him it’s probably a diaper, I’m busy, you do it, getting met with the blank stare of (Kristin’s term) male pattern blindness. *slowly puts knife back in drawer as this would cause even more cleanup* Yeah, he was mad that Fletcher fell over and did a faceplant from the Boppy pillow and I didn’t catch him in time. I was right next to him, did he think I pushed him over? WTF?!!?? I’m interviewing elephant trainers as we speak. Ones with extra long whips.

In other news, we’re going back to the pool tomorrow so that my little duck can swim some more. I should have video and pics soon!

Advertisements


{September 14, 2009}   My day.

I was awakened at 0330 by….nothing. I’m not sure what. Then I had to get up to pee say 3 times in the next hour, so falling back asleep was out. I couldn’t hit the snooze button cause I couldn’t go back to sleep. I got up, poured some cereal only to discover that I was using the last of the milk. Great. Now I would have to stop on the way home to get some. Got to work on time, was supposed to be 1st on the Early Off list, and they’d put me in the 2 cases that were the longest all day. Then, the doctor hollered at me for not wanting to drive the C-Arm xray machine and operate it, because we’re not supposed to. The xray techs do that. And when I say hollered, I mean screaming at me at the top of his lungs for “YOU GET OVER HERE AND DRIVE IT!!! AND DON’T TELL ME YOU CAN’T!!!!!” Yeah. Charmer, right? This is one of the docs I’ve had issues with before, and I thought we’d come to an understanding. I, apparently, was grossly in error on this issue. How dare he order me around like a child, for one, and berate me in front of colleagues, for another, just who the hell does he think he is! I should have ignored him till xray got there, but in the interest of de-escalating the situation, I complied. Then, I never got a lunch break, so when I got relieved at 2, I just clocked out and left. All in all, not one of my better days. First person who fucks with me tonight will end up on the news.

And I forgot to stop on the way home for milk. I have had a nap and some food now, so maybe my appearance on the news won’t be so disastrous.



And I had to sign into my blog this morning. I bet he found my last entry. And he knows I’m pissed like fuck. Serves him right! Hah! Jackass. Yes, I let the sun go down on my wrath, or whatever it is the old people say who’re just too old and tired to fight about it. Hah! I swear, if he gets this car fixed, I’m gonna make him sell it. I’ll make him get a new car with a warranty that he can’t touch anything on it or it voids it. Dammit. It’ll be another payment, but damn, I’m tired of him breaking things that don’t need fixing! I’d almost rather make a car payment!



{June 21, 2009}   The fucking car quit running.

The fucking car that I told him not to buy, that he already had a car that ran perfectly, that I told him was 22 years old and bound to have problems. You know what he told me? He wanted to get something he wanted before the baby got here, cause he knew he’d never have anything he wanted again. I wasn’t convinced, but I told him, fine. If he just had to have it, he was not to spend any more money on it than what he got selling the perfectly running car. That’s probably still running perfectly in North Carolina, somewhere. Yeah. Well. Let me know how that works out for other people, cause now, the engine died, it has rod knocking (what he said), and my pregnant fat ass is gonna have to get up at 2am and drive him to work. Never mind how he’s gonna get home. Never mind that I have a dr’s appt in the morning, and have to go to work right after that. Where there are patients that depend on me to be alert and not tired. And it’s gonna cost approximately $2000 to fix, which we have to get a loan for. Just when we were paying stuff off and finally gonna be in a good position. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he did this on purpose, just so I’d have to keep working and not be able to stay home with “The Chunk.” I am so pissed off. You just don’t even know. We are not amused. At all. Even a little bit. And the thing about it is, I don’t want to be right. I want everything to work out according to plan, but I’m too practical and far-seeing to really believe it. He says this is me being “negative.” I say it’s me being realistic. But I can’t help telling him “I told you so” especially when it was me telling him the whole time not to do it, and now I’m the one being inconvenienced and put upon. Why can’t he listen to me and see the same things I see, instead of “oooh, something pretty and shiny, and I WANT IT!@#$!” Can you say “toddler”? I can’t even yell. I just want to cry. It never fails. Just when we’re getting to a point where we can take a breath. He always gets mad at me for questioning him. What am I supposed to do? When I let him go, he does stuff like this!!!



{May 25, 2009}   My YCU. Bless his heart.

I took him to work this morning.  Yes, on Memorial Day, because his boss is a dick.  They’re trying to make him quit, so they don’t have to pay him his worker’s comp settlement.  YCU thinks they’re going to fire him after he goes back to work.  I keep saying surely not, but I’ve been proven wrong before.  It would happen to us.  Anyway, I got home, and what do I find?  The (used) butter knife laying on top of the (closed) butter container, socks in the kitchen, and he still hasn’t cleaned either bathroom that’s needed it since we got back from vacay.  I had to bug him the other day to pick up the man-panties in the bedroom floor.  I guess one piece of clothing a week is just too much to ask.  When I woke him up (Hi, honey.  Good morning!  Yeah, do you think you could clean the bathrooms and pick up in here a little bit, and if you have time, go to the grocery store today?)  he accused me of waking him up to bark at him.  If I wanted to bark, a whispered “hi, honey” would not have been part of the dialogue.  All of these chores would have taken under 2 hours.  I’m a bit angry that he’s being so inconsiderate and taking me for granted.  I’m thinking of getting a large box and a shovel and burying his clothes in the backyard.



{March 10, 2009}   I swear to God.

I’m doing nothing but trying to help my husband and he keeps telling me to shut up and listen to the people with workman’s comp.  I am listening to the people and what they are saying is “I really don’t care about you, if you’re claiming workman’s comp, you must be a leach on society instead of trully injured.  We’re going to do our level best to send you to the shittiest, newest orthopedic surgeon on the planet because he’s cheap!  And you should be grateful for it!’  Bull-fuckin’ shit!!  Do you hear me?  Bull-fuckin’ shit!  Not only will he NOT talk to me like that, but I work with most of these motherfuckers.  Most of them are greedy, triflin’, shady creeps with no morals and no ethics.  There’s a few of them I wouldn’t let operate on my worst enemy’s dog’s ball sac!  I’m sure the fuck not gonna let some idiot take advantage of my husband just because someone in an office thinks they can screw good employees out of good medical care and a job!!  My husband is not a dopehead, a leach, or some lazy slacker looking for a easy payout from a lawsuit.  He not only likes his job, he’s good at it!  He’s very grateful for it!  He can’t help it that the damn floor jack wedged his foot between itself and a doorjamb.  It was an accident!  Not to mention how the walk-in clinic treated him when he called to request something else for pain.  I was so pissed off.  How dare they assume he’s some trashy addict drug-seeker!  Workman’s comp is supposed to protect the employee from all of this.  Workman’s comp was put in place so that the companies would have to make their workplaces safe environments and to take care of accidents.  I’m sooo ready to hire an attorney anyway, just so these people will get their heads out of their asses!  It’s pitiful when you have to throw a fit and hire an attorney just to get what’s basic and required of them anyway.  They are so gonna rue the day they tried to screw me.  And don’t worry, the husband will learn very quickly.  If not, he get’s the short bus to the curb!



This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:



Little bitch. Hands up all who think it’s appropriate for YCU to be talking to a young 20-something girl about hot bodies and her girlfriends and her going to the salon? Nah, didn’t think there would be anybody. I found this IM when my laptop went tits up earlier. (I love that expression. I have to credit Geohde with it.) Bitch logged in as I was getting on the internet, and asked (I presume she thought it was him) why he wasn’t in bed. I wrote back “He is. This is Nina. You two have had quite the interesting conversation today.” She tried to play dumb and couldn’t remember what they talked about, so I reminded her. That wasn’t all of their conversation, but I’m just giving the overview. She then tried to say that their conversation constituted “gayness.” I stated “No, I don’t think Gayness enters into the equation here. I may be wrong, however. The definition could have changed since lunch. Last I checked, it meant two GUYS talking. Or fucking, as the case may be.” “True,” she stated. “Good. I’m glad we agree. Good night!” She better hope she’s not as stupid as I think she is. I know it was passive aggressive, but if she has any kind of brain, she’ll see that what was going on was inappropriate, and that I really wasn’t happy with it. She may not care about me, but she won’t forget me if we meet in the future, I guaran-fucking-tee that. As far as my husband is concerned. Well. You don’t want to know. And I don’t want to leave any evidence.



{February 6, 2009}   Let it go.

I’ve been told this sooo many times in my life.  I’ve never really understood it, because how can you let it go unless it gets fixed to your satisfaction?  And you’ve said your peace?  I am not a “let it go” kind of personality.  I can hold a grudge for years.  I’m still pissed off at the pediatrician who told my mom I “might” have a viral infection, thereby precluding my participation in a slumber party that night.  I was 7.  That doctor was really an idiot.  He also tried to tell her I had hodgkins lymphoma because the parotid glands in my face swelled up.  Moron.  You don’t panic a mother and ruin everyone else’s day by giving too much info with not enough back up.  Idiot.  Anyway, what I’m really writing about is that I’m still trying to be patient and let my husband handle this “friend” situation.  And no, I’m not letting go.  You try it.  Let me know how it works for you.  His dumbass should have handled this problem before it ever got to me by saying “Hey dude, I work really wierd hours, so just call me between like 9am and 4. K?”  How hard would that have been?  I swear, if he leaves it to me to handle, he will NOT like the way I do it.  I just commented on a blog that was trying to tell everyone “Are you gonna remember this in a year?  If not, chill out.”  I couldn’t help myself, I just had to let him know that some of us aren’t so lucky as to be able to forget things like that.  I’m damn close to having a photographic memory.  I can still spit back conversations I had in high school.  I can tell you just about every detail of my day yesterday.  Verbatim.  This is why I get in trouble all the time for talking too much.  I’m giving details that stick in my head, not realizing that no one else finds these things important but me.  I finally just had to explain to my husband (not so patiently, by now) that if this situation only affected him, it would be perfectly ok to tell his friends to call whenever they shit to tell him all about it, but as it affects me too, it would really be nice if he would curb their enthusiasm just a bit.  Jobs, bills, lives, etc….we’ve covered this all before.  His friends don’t have them, we do.   Blah, blah, blah.  Which I think is all he hears.  Like Charlie Brown’s teacher.  His real problem is that he’s passive-aggressive.  He’s perfectly capable of seeing there’s a problem.  He even agrees that a problem exists.  He just doesn’t want to be responsible for fixing it, so by letting me be the bitch, he’s solved both problems, and his friends don’t possibly maybe for even one second get mad at him.  They just all agree that I’m stupid, bitchy, etc and to shut me up, they’ll comply.  We can’t just be straightforward about this.  Oh, no, we have to be all gay about it and come in through the back door.  Men are like extra children.  See this post.  Highly educational.  Let it go, my ass.



{February 5, 2009}   I love my attitude problem.

Oh.  My.  God.  Hands up everyone who thinks it’s ok to call someone at 1am, hear a voicemail recording, and then have the audacity to call back?!!  No one normal?  Yeah, I thought not.  Yes, another one of my husband’s stupid friends begging to be housebroken.  How dare he???  Better yet, how dare my husband not rip him a new asshole for doing it??!!  I did give him the chance.  I asked,very patiently, I might add, “Who the fuck is that calling at 1am?  Not family with a life-threatening emergency, you say?  Then who the fuck thinks that’s appropriate?  Do they not know we have jobs, and bills, and lives, and a house payment?  I bet they still live in their mom’s fucking basement!”  See?!!  Patient, I tell you!!  Patient!  I could have just grabbed the gun and started putting holes in the wall until whoever was on the other end became very afraid.  I didn’t do that, though, cause “Patience is a virtue!”  See, wasn’t I good?  Although, now, at almost 3am and not back to sleep yet, I’m not feeling very virtuous.  I did get the number out of my husband’s phone, however.  I’ve already called once and left a (very patient) message.  “Hi.  This is Nina ____, _____’s wife?  Yes, you called a little earlier with what I’m sure was an extremely life threatening emergency in another state at approximately 1am?  Yeah, I’m hereby politely requesting that you NOT DO IT AGAIN!!!”  I plan to call every hour on the hour today until I get results and an apology.  I hope I wake his dumbass up.  I should be a professional housebreaker for wives/girlfriends/mothers everywhere.  Moneyback guarantee.



et cetera