Yes, ladies, sometimes I can be a bitch.
I'm not talking about those "roar" moments where you're proud of yourself
for taking a stand. Nope. I'm talking about those moments when your
emotions get the better of you and you freak out over something kind of
stupid ... but you just can't stop yourself in the moment.
Saturday night was my raging bitch moment (fingers crossed that that'll be
it for the year, but I doubt it).
Here's what happened:
My husband loves the symphony. I do not.
Friday night he asks me if we have any plans for Saturday night. I say we
don't. He says he'd like to go to the symphony and he wanted to invite a
friend to go with him (a mutual female friend). I don't have any problems
with that and am grateful that he checked to make sure there wasn't anything
else going on. I tell him this.
Saturday rolls around and he says he's going to leave around 4:30 pm
(symphony doesn't start until 8 pm [Beethoven, btw]) because they're going
to grab a bite to eat beforehand. Fine. No problem. I'm thinking they'll
go for sushi or chinese or something like that.
He gets home around 11:30 pm. I ask him how the concert was. He said it
was really good. I ask him how dinner was. He said it was good. Still
making conversation, I ask him where they ended up going for dinner. He
tells me they went to The Keg.
THAT's when mega-ugly super bitch took over my mind.
Anyone who knows me knows that The Keg is my all time favorite restaurant.
We only get to go on special occasions, like my birthday or our wedding
anniversary. So it's like my "special place."
I say to him "You went to The Keg without me?"
He replies "Yeah, but I had a coupon."
Me: "You had a what?"
Him: "A coupon ... I mean, a gift card ... certificate. My mom or my
sister gave it to me at Christmas."
I wasn't at the present opening at his parents' place on Christmas Day
because I was at home cooking the turkey. But, in previous years, his
sister (or mom) would give a present to both of us (one present addressed to
both of us) for The Keg. And he used that to take someone else.
Me: "Are you kidding me? What the hell?!!!"
Him: "Why are you mad?"
And THAT's when mega-ugly super bitch moved from taking over my mind and
completely took over my body and mouth.
Me: "Seriously??? You have NO idea why I might be pissed? I'll give you a
little time to think about it."
And then I left the bedroom. That was around midnight.
I go back in the bedroom around 1 am. He has the lights out and is
sleeping. Not for long. I turn the television on in the room (as well as
the bedroom light). He's not able to sleep well, but he struggles to and
won't say a word to me. He's lying there very quiet and still. I suppose
it must be some survival instinct in him that warns him not to engage
mega-ugly super bitch and his best chance at living is to play dead.
Problem with that theory is that I'm not a bear; I'm a bitch, and the
quieter he is, the angrier I'm getting.
Finally, at 3 am, I turn to him and say "You've put me in such a bad mood
that I can't sleep. And if *I* can't sleep, there's no way I'm going to let
you sleep. When I'm miserable, you're going to be miserable too!"
He says: "I don't understand what I've done wrong."
TWANG. Did you hear that, ladies? That was one of the last threads of
sanity in my head snapping. If this moment had been taking place during a
hockey game, SCHLUMPH would have been the sound heard as my gloves are
thrown down to the ice.
I'm not proud of the profanity that spewed out of my mouth. I won't type
that part of what I said; you all have good imaginations and can insert it
mentally.
Me: "The Keg was a special place for me. It was a special place where you
take me. And now you've ruined that. You've turned it into 'just another
place.'"
He smiles nervously.
Me: "I had no idea that my pain causes you so much enjoyment. I would
appreciate it if, in the future, you'd just use your words and tell me that
you hate me."
Him: "That's not it. I just don't know what to say."
Me: "You better think of something. I'm angry and in pain and you know it
and you're not even attempting to comfort me or apologize or anything."
Him: "I'm sorry. I guess I just didn't think."
Me: "Oh, no! That won't fly with me. You're not going to get away with
the 'I'm just a stupid guy who doesn't use his brain' excuse."
He reaches out his hand to caress my cheek.
Me: "You're off by a couple of inches."
Him: "What?"
Me: "Traditionally, the sign is to cover another's mouth with the hand when
you want them to shut up, not the cheek."
He looks at me like a frightened deer caught in mega-ugly super bitch's high
beam headlights.
Me: "What do you think your sister or your mom will think if they find out
that you took someone else to The Keg with the present they gave?"
Him: "I didn't think about that. All I was thinking was that I didn't have
any money, so use the coupon."
Me: "You had money for the symphony. If you didn't have money for dinner,
then why go out for dinner at all?" (That sentence is one where you can use
your imagination to insert as many profane words as you'd like).
Him: "I had a coupon. I didn't think it would be a big deal."
Me: "And now?"
Him: "Now I know. I understand."
Me: "And just what is it that you know and understand?"
Him: "Don't go to The Keg without you."
Me: "But that's part of the problem. Because of this, I can't go to The
Keg with you at all. Ever. It's just 'some other place' now and we might
as well just go to McDonald's or 7-Eleven. Now there is nothing."
He actually looks a little sad.
Me: "I'm really upset about this, and as long as I'm upset, I'm going to
take it out on you."
Him: "I know."
Me: "It could take me a really long time to get over this."
Him: "I know."
Me: "It won't be over until *I* say it is."
Him: "I know."
It pretty much ended there, and we went to sleep.
Obviously there was more to the conversation as it went on for about half an
hour. I was in a bad mood and don't remember every word that was spoken ...
mostly by me. Like the monologue I had with him about if he were Aspie,
like I think he is, that while it's still incredibly frustrating, I get that
he has issues dealing with social interactions and reading social cues and
understanding the social ramifications of his actions, but since he tells me
repeatedly that he's NOT Aspie then there is no "excuse" for his behaviour
and I'm left to conclude that it was done deliberately, which means that he
knew it would hurt me and didn't care. Yes, ladies, every "there" you can
think of, I went.
So Saturday night/Sunday morning was not one of my better moments.
For any of you that might have thought that I was a down-to-earth, calm and
patient person who rarely gets her feathers ruffled and when she does, she
still manages to hold it together and deal with it gracefully, I apologize
for bursting that bubble.
The truth is that once in a blue moon, I can be cursed with a transformation
into mega-ugly super bitch.
While I may not be proud of it, I will admit that sometimes, just a little
bit, it does feel good to let it all out and not hold anything back ... even
if, in the long run, it is over something kind of stupid.
