This is going to be a late night. I have to write an essay on the humor in Ellen Meloy's The Anthropology of Turquoise, the book I've had the hardest time with this semester. Gotta love that last minute essay assignment when all the other projects are due.
I'm here because I just had a big stupid fight with Chris about who does more around the house and who's more exhausted. I hate that no matter what I get done or how fast I work, the end of the semester always sucks. I'm so fucking tired and I'm on the verge of getting sick. I haven't had any time to get sick though, so it hasn't caught up with me yet.
8 o'clock and I still have to coordinate dinner and dogs. I'm sure if I didn't say anything it would happen eventually but Jesus- the chicken you want to make takes an hour to cook. How long do you think you can wait? Throughout the argument I'm reminding him that it's time to start the rice. I know the dogs need to be fed and taken out. I think I should get gratitude for keeping things running- instead I think he wants me to just make dinner and put the laundry away and clean the bathroom and whatever else needs to be done. It would mean a lot less arguments. Tempting, sure, but no thanks. I don't mind insisting that you help out. It was really cute when he started putting away the laundry to show me how fast and easy it is. Come here, let me stab you in the eyeball.
Ok, I'm not feeling totally resolved here but at least I'm back to neutral. Now I'm off to go try to find some of this stuff funny and write a very short, shitty, and slightly angry essay about it.
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