At Least I’m Up Before 2.

There are four loads of laundry that need to be folded. My bathroom, not due to me, spells entirely of piss. Though the men are outnumbered (2 to 4) in the house, it doesn’t change that once someone gets some beer in him he forgets how to aim. I’ll leave that for him to handle. The only piss I deal with is my daughters’ and they’ve been out of diapers for a couple years now. 

I’m still heavy from last night’s conversation. Later on, after our initial talk, he was sweeter but still tried to convince me it was in the best interest of the family to stay together. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. What he means is he would rather handle things the complicated way than the logical way. All he sees is us leaving. He doesn’t see the potentially wonderful opportunity this gives me to find a job that pays better than anything around here AND I might even enjoy. He doesn’t see how so much stress could be lifted off of me or how THIS WOULDN’T BE FOREVER. And what about when he’s gone? Maybe by saying no to my uncle now means my inivation won’t be extended in a month of two when I have no other choice. 

I wish I knew what to do.

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