When I first moved in here everything was going pretty good. Skaterboi would cook, help with the dishes, clean around the house a little, but then it all stopped. The only thing he does now is cook when he feels like it and spray off the deck where the puppy from hell has pooped. I blame it all on the dogs. After his friend brought over the mother dog and her six puppies for us to keep until they got into their house, two weeks after moving in, everything went to hell.
We still have the mother dog, outside in the yard, and the puppy from hell, outside on the deck. The only reason the puppy is on the deck is because Skaterboi stopped cleaning up the poop and piss in the room where we were keeping her. That room also happened to be where my desk and all my other stuff is. I finally had enough one morning and moved the puppy bed into his bedroom and moved the rest of my stuff into my room/office. He said he didn’t want the puppy sleeping with him so he put her outside on the deck. Of course he had to bitch about it for a week or so, continuously mentioning that something might get the puppy because she was still small. I was willing to take my chances on that one.
Now though, I’m the one in the dog house. Before I explain why, I’d like to say that on Friday I told Skaterboi that my shifter was acting weird. It’s a manual and the shifter has been loose, but I could still shift. He drove it down the road and back and said it was fine.
I left Sunday night to go out with friends to a birthday party. On the way, a pin or something fell out of my gear shift and it wouldn’t shift at all so I had to coast into a church parking lot. I called Skaterboi to let him know that the car had broken down. He said he would come and look at it. When he got there he looked at it and said that it was something to do with the gear shift. Duh. Since it was Sunday night and there weren’t any auto repair shops open I decided to just leave it and ask him to drive me to the RiteAid in town so my friends could pick me up. He was not happy with this proposition and said I should be more worried about my car than the stupid birthday party.
So he drove me to town and after I got out of his truck he spun around and sped off.
My friends came and got me and I had a good time, but I ended up staying out later than planned and just got home this morning. Afterall, I was at the mercy of my friends for a ride back to my car. I also did not text or call Skaterboi to let him know when I would be home because I already knew he was pissed off at me and when he didn’t bother texting me or leaving me a voicemail message I just got pissed off at him. (I had to keep turning my phone off to save the battery because I didn’t have a charger with me, and it finally died last night.)
I got to my car this morning and called AAA to come and tow it to my house. When I got home Skaterboi was not home. After charging my phone back up I sent him a text letting him know I was home. His response, “Thanks for worrying me to death.” I said I was sorry & my phone had died. “No excuse” was his reply.
I’m 36 years old, have lived in NYC for 7 years, have been on my own since I was 18, and have yet to get abducted, mugged, or murdered. I think I’m doing pretty good so far, so why do I need to give him an excuse?
I don’t badger him when he takes off and I don’t know where he is. This relationship is definitely lop-sided.
He came home just long enough to yell at me about not calling or texting him. Every time I tried to say something he interrupted me and just started yelling again. I’m not going to try to talk to someone who won’t listen to me.
He said he didn’t know why I even bothered coming home at all. Well, first of all my car won’t move now, and secondly all my shit is here. Probably not for much longer though.