He Called the Kettle Black

Here I am, day three off work, day five of sickliness.  My fever finally broke this morning, so at least I can plan on heading back to work tomorrow.  I am actually feeling a lot better, but still pretty weak, woozy, tired.  My headache is finally submitting to the extra strength Tylenol that I keep feeding it.

I am still on my revolving schedule…bed to couch to computer to bed to couch to bed to computer.  My schedule has been interrupted a bit by Dr. Love, who claims to still be sick and is hogging the couch now.  There is a bunch of stuff that he is supposed to do at the other house and I think his “illness” is related to that.

The house is a disaster area, thanks to me not being able to do much since last Thursday.  I finally convinced Dr. Love to go to the grocery store, which is always scary.  Lots of cookies, Wal-Mart brand soy milk (yuck!), three big Hershey bars, candy corn, five cans of low-sodium condensed chicken-and-noodle soup (I asked for cream of chicken, for cooking).  Me thinks this is why I generally do the grocery shopping.

I have some good meals planned out if I ever feel well enough to cook again.  I have most of the makings for sweet and sour chicken, chicken and noodles, and white chili.  Unfortunately Dr. Love’s grocery shopping trip did not quite yield all the ingredients I need, so I will need to pick up a few things before these meals can even happen.  I am thinking that I will be putting some pork chops and sauerkraut in the crock pot before I go to bed tonight so that tomorrow’s meals are taken care of.  I know I am going to be worthless by the time I get off work, if I can only manage an hour or so of sitting up before I have to lie back down.

Apparently I am the modern day Typhoid Mary.  I was “better” on Sunday and went and visited QoB and Big Dog.  QoB reported last night that Big Dog had a headache and felt like crap, and that she had to go home at noon yesterday with a fever.  She blames her illness on co-workers, Big Dog totally blames me.  I would like to point out that this all started with Dr. Love and is therefore not really my fault.

However, my fever broke on day five and I am feeling much better.  Dr. Love is on day eight of this crap, and reports that he still feels really tired and sick.  Of course, that could just be work getting to him, since he decided to pick up some extra shifts and is still staying up at night until midnight when he needs to get up at 6:00 a.m.  I feel little sympathy and quite a bit of annoyance.  It would be nice if the house could have stayed somewhat out of chaos during my absence from the domestic life, but no.  He didn’t even take care of the birds or the dog while I was sick, believing wholly that I am able to do that, because I am home anyway.

Speaking of birds, they are sure saying some funny things.  Kess said “goodnight” for the first time last night, and it was in a cross between my voice and Sondra’s voice.  I am sure she was saying it when Sondra was around, but it was cool to hear it because I hadn’t before.  I could have sworn that Winston was whistling “If I Only Had a Brain” from the Wizard of Oz this morning, but maybe that was my imagination.

I have vacillated on the birds, from being really excited about them, to wanting them to go away, and now I am in the middle.  I really do love those birds and they are neat creatures.  Wow, they take a lot of work though.  Very messy and all that.  I vacuum their room twice a day, at minimum.  Their cages need to be cleaned every week, sometimes more often than that.  Then there are the daily to weekly baths that they get.  I still think they are not getting enough stimulation with just an hour of my attention in the morning and then a little bit in the evening, but I do know that their happiness increases and squawkiness decreases the more time I spend with them.

Dr. Love on the other hand does not like the birds.  He considers that room as a “wasted space” and thinks the birds are annoying.  Well yes, yes they are annoying at times.  But they are also charming and have great sentimental value to me.  This is my house, not his, and so I say that they stay, and he will have to live with that.  And if he doesn’t like it, he can move to the basement.  Stay down there with the extra bed, his computer setup, and the Bowflex (if he ever gets it moved and put back up).  There’s even a bathroom down there!

I take great pride in being a homeowner and maybe he doesn’t have that because he doesn’t actually OWN the house, and he considers it just renting.  Well, this is not a temporary place for me to live.  This is MY house and I plan on staying here a very long time.

QoB has said to me many times, “Are you better off with him, or without him”  An old Ann Landers question, I believe.  Sometimes I am sure that I am better off with him, and other times I am not so sure.  He has the potential to be very supportive to me in many ways, but there are a lot of times that he is just gone, distant, in his own world, and completely oblivious to me.

I wonder sometimes if my definition of what it is I want is becoming more clear and is making me question our relationship.  I do not want to be in a life-long relationship that has a maladaptive cycle.  Relationships mean a lot of work, and I am willing to put all that in.  It really depends now on what he is willing to do.

My Chemical Romance, Welcome the Black Parade

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One thought on “He Called the Kettle Black

  1. Lyrics to “Welcome the Black Parade” by Chemical Romance

    When I was a young boy
    My father took me into the city
    To see a marching band
    He said, “Son, when you grow up
    Would you be the savior of the broken
    The beaten and the damned??

    He said, “Will you defeat them
    Your demons and all the non-believers
    The plans that they have made?
    Because one day, I’ll leave you
    A phantom to lead you in the summer
    To join the Black Parade”

    Sometimes I get the feeling
    She’s watching over me
    And other times I feel like I should go
    And through it all, the rise and fall
    The bodies in the streets
    And when you’re gone we want you all to know

    We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on
    And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
    Your memory will carry on, we’ll carry on
    And in my heart, I can’t contain it
    The anthem won’t explain it

    And while that sends you reeling
    From decimated dreams
    Your misery and hate will kill us all
    So paint it black and take it back
    Let’s shout out loud and clear
    Do you fight it to the end?

    We hear the call to carry on, we’ll carry on
    And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
    Your memory will carry on, we’ll carry on
    And though you’re broken and defeated
    You’re weary widow marches

    On and on we carry through the fears
    Disappointed faces of your peers
    Take a look at me
    ‘Cause I could not care at all

    Do or die, you’ll never make me
    Because the world will never take my heart
    Though you try, you’ll never break me
    We want it all, we wanna play this part

    Won’t explain or say I’m sorry
    I’m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scar
    Give a cheer for all the broken
    Listen here, because it’s only

    I’m just a man, I’m not a hero
    Just a boy who wanna sing his song
    Just a man, I’m not a hero
    I don’t care!

    We’ll carry on, we’ll carry on
    And though you’re dead and gone, believe me
    Your memory will carry on, you’ll carry on
    And though you’re broken and defeated
    You’re weary widow marches on

    Do or die, you’ll never make me
    Because the world will never take my heart
    Though you try, you’ll never break me
    We want it all, we wanna play this part
    (We’ll carry on)

    Do or die, you’ll never make me
    Because the world will never take my heart
    Though you try, you’ll never break me
    We want it all, we wanna play this part
    (We’ll carry on)

    Like

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