Monday, August 16, 2004
My stepbrother's company fired him for "instigating a fight" with a fellow employee. As a result, Jeremy is the only person not out of my house-that-is-not-my-house today. Last night he beckoned me into his bedroom to ask what we would spend the day doing. Confused (neither of us have cars, and I walk nowhere), I told him to come up with something and to make an appointment with me.
Yesterday as The Father dropped me off at work we had a slight row; I was screaming at him quite openly as I exited the vehicle. He apparently told Terri and Jeremy that I was hysterical, because Jeremy kept asking, periodically last night, if I was all right. Well, in retrospect he probably did not tell Jeremy, but my demeanor upon my return home last night probably made my feelings clear enough to everyone.
Over the past few days, I've figured out that Terri has decided to play what I shall call the Nothing-You-Do-Is-Good-Enough-For-Me game. Saturday she freaked because I squeezed a load of my laundry in between two loads she was doing. She and The Father returned from an errand as I was folding some of the load she had in the dryer so that I could finish the load I had in the washer. She came in and told me, 'Saturday is not your day to do laundry, especially now that I've started school.' She started to pull down the jeans I had hung, growling, 'And we don't hang these. You were home from work early last night; you could have done your laundry then.' I'm reasonable enough to understand her being upset with me about my timing, but she could have informed me of my transgression in a much better way than she did. Apparently, I ought to be punished for not having enough clairvoyance to know that Terri doesn't hang jeans! She made it sound as though I did everything just to make her mad.
She pulled the same show last night- around 8:50 I began boiling some eggs to prepare a tuna salad, as Ashlea, Matt, and Jeremy stood talking to each other/me in the kitchen. As I was finishing (after Ashlea and Matt had left), Terri came down to put something away before she went to bed, noticed what I was doing, and actually yelled at me! She said, 'You know, it really annoys me to come down in the morning to find dirty dishes...' For background, Terri is a bit anal about how and when her dishes get done, to the point that she allows no child to put his/her own dishes in the washer, to turn the washer on, or to empty the washer. She does the dinner dishes and turns on the load before bed; in the morning, she empties the washer. I told her and The Father that I don't feel comfortable with that arrangement; when I make a mess, I ought to clean it up myself. I at least rinse my stuff and put it in the sink. Anyhow, all I had last night was a spoon, a ladle, and a pan in which I had boiled the eggs. I rinsed those, plus three or four glasses some of the kids left on the counter. After Terri rebuked me, she huffed over to the dishwasher, emptied it, and washed the stuff in the sink (I didn't stick around to watch- I was so furious I went upstairs to my bedroom-that-is-not-my-bedroom to hide until she finished). I came out for a second, though, and crossed the hall to tell The Father what had happened. I was tearfully angry, because I've honestly been trying to accomodate Terri, but she refuses to play fair. For the sake of world peace, she ought to consider giving just a little bit, too.
April called a few minutes ago- we are to go shopping. April is my bestest friend in the whole wide world, because she always rescues me and never asks for anything back.
I am going to cry...
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 10:19 AM]