So several months ago I came to a realization. I lay in bed one night, counting on my fingers. And toes. Because there was a lot of counting to do. And then I counted again, just to make sure. And then it hit me.
I was going to get my period ON my wedding day.
This? Would not do at all.
So I weighed my options. There really weren't many. I could either 1) deal with it or 2) take steps to change it. The thought of wearing that heavily beaded dress in the middle of summer (September 1st is still pretty durned hot around here) with three inch heels and THEN being doubled over in cramps sealed my decision.
So I talked to Jack about it. I warned him that every time I had gone on the pill before, I had gone OFF of it within a few months because it turned me into a raging monster. But I decided to take it anyway and hope for the best.
Yeah.
So yesterday, Thursday, was my hell day. Thursdays are the days I work 8 hours at my day job and then another 8 hours at the bar. So I get up somewhere between 6-7am and don't get to bed until close to 3am.
Jack, my darling, the love of my life, did NOT work yesterday. I don't know what time he got started with his day but by 4pm he was at the bar because he called me at work to settle a bar bet. (Said bet having something to do with Jon Bon Jovi's age) (Which is 45)
So I get to the bar around 5:30 (after a truly SUCKY day at the office) to start my shift and Jack is heading out with his buddy Wayne and one of Wayne's ladyfriends. (Since breaking up with his gf Wayne has had LOTS of ladyfriends). They go back to Amy's and Jack makes dinner and they drink and have fun. I don't begrudge him any of this. He works hard too - he's allowed to have fun.
The three of them come back to the bar a few hours later with a plate of food for me. (Yay food!!). Jack is intoxicated but he switches to water so I'm very proud of him for that.
After about three hours, he switches back to beer and about 30 seconds later his friend Jamal comes in. Jamal and Jack had been missing each other's calls all evening.
So Jamal gets there, everything's everything, no problem. I'm not in the best of moods just because, like I said, I had had an awful day at the office and I was tired, but I wasn't actively ANNOYED at anyone or anything. Just cranky, you know?
Anyway, I'm closing up the bar, I make Jack and Jamal (along with barfly Val) wait outside while I set the alarm.
I get out and I say to Val, "See you later" and I say to Jamal, "It was good to see you again" and I start to head off to my car, expecting Jack to follow us.
"Jamal's coming with us."
The FUCK you say?!?!
I. Went. Ballistic.
Now, normally I can control my emotions and wait until an appropriate moment to express my displeasure but not this time. I was all, "What?" and "What do you mean he has nowhere to go?" and "I think it's about time for the party to stop, Jack" and "I'm sick of having intransients on my doorstep" (an exaggeration - with the exception of Miguel the Squatter back in December we haven't had ANY intransients.)
Finally I stomped off to the car and slammed my door and drove off the moment the two of them had shut their doors and I fumed silently and responded in very clipped, clearly pissed-as-hell tones when spoken to and generally acted like a brat. And it did occur to me that it's not like I haven't sprung a suprise sofa surfer on Jack before but I was too wrapped up in my righteous indignation to allow that voice of reason to be heard.
So we got back to the apartment and I stomped upstairs and left the two of them to follow in my wake and when Jack got in he followed me into the bathroom and I was all, "You've been out and partying with your friends and having a fun time since 4pm and I've been up and out and working since 7am and all I want to do is come home and have some one on one time with you and the least you could've done was ASKED me before inviting Jamal over and is this even OUR house or is it just yours and I'm just a guest here?" and the whole time I was practically yelling and definitely crying and....wow.
Now. I am by no means dismissing Jack as blameless here. He fucked up. He knows he fucked up. He was appropriately contrite. But still, damn was my reaction over the top.
But it wasn't until we had both mostly settled down (although I was still weepy) and we were lying together that it hit me.
"Those pills? Those MOTHERFUCKING PILLS! See, I warned you this was going to happen. I TOLD you!" and then I dissolved into that hysterical weeping/laughing thing.
So yeah. To quote from Miz Tia: "Hand over the brownie and no one gets hurt"
