new raspberry; �HATES technological I am sick to death of erectile dysfunction, pass the tampons please |
I'm not a saint I�m not a saint� I don�t even play one on TV But I�m damn tired of paying for somebody else�s sins. I have enough shit that I�ve done that I have to make amends for without paying for all the fucking crap your ex gf put you through. Do you hear me Ms., aka my better half? There. I feel a teensy bit better. What�s this all about you say? It�s about teeth. Specifically my teeth. Once upon a time Juli had teeth that could eat corn on a cob through a picket fence. Then came the braces years. After the braces years there were the straight and beautiful teeth years which were immediately followed by the drinking and drugging years. The years in which self performed dental hygiene was spotty to non-existent. So the teeth that the orthodontist took such care in rearranging un-rearranged themselves. My teeth are strong and through some miracle of good genes there is no decay in the actual teeth. There is however a whole lot of bone loss and gum recession. The bottom line is that my front teeth have shifted so much that they look worse now than they did before the braces. Ms., aka my better half has been bugging me to do something about it and I have been reluctant. It has nothing to do with fear of dentist�s or pain factors at all. It�s all about money. Ms., aka my better half has insurance. She�s never had to deal with the sticker shock of paying for these kinds of services out of pocket. And I know fixing these teeth is not going to be an inexpensive proposition. In fact, I know fixing these teeth is going to cost more than my parents paid for their first house. And I know how she is going to react to that cost. And I�d almost rather walk around with shitty teeth for the rest of my life than put up with how she is going to react to the cost. Which brings me to paying for the sins of those that have gone before. [Cue reverb]. Ms., aka my better half has always been the majority bread winner in her relationships. Her ex was a money spending machine. There were private tennis lessons in the thousands, there were private flying lessons in the tens of thousands. There was the Dodge Stealth�more thousands. I�m sure there�s more shit I don�t know about and stuff I do, but have forgotten. But this was in the days before children when money was plentiful and pissing money away is what you did. Then the children came and the ex gf couldn�t handle that. She waited until the last payment was made on the Stealth before she broke the news that children were not in her future. And then the person who never contributed a dime of her income to the household proceeded to ask for and get half of Ms., aka my better half�s life savings and half the value of a house that she is not even on the title or mortgage of. WTF? Oh, and all the furniture she could cart off before someone put their foot down and said, �Enough.� So along comes little old me. We hook up, fall in love, combine households, life is good. Kids weren�t in my future either, but Ms., aka my better half is a package deal. All or nothing. And I can handle that. At the time�the days before I quit my fucking job to raise her nephews�I make a third of what Ms., aka my better half makes, but I contribute dollar wise and even pick up some utilities in my name so that I can continue to have some sort of identity other than �room mate� and credit card bill recipient. All is good. I just think Ms., aka my better half is a tightwad sometimes. It gets worse as time goes by. It�s not that we ever lack for anything and she�s very generous with jewelry and trips and all manner of things. But she�s just weird about money�and getting weirder. I get the story of the ex in bits and pieces from a variety of sources. Now mind you. I am a spend-a-holic. I have an obscene amount of unsecured debt in credit cards. But never, ever once have I not been able to pay my own bills. I�ve gotten much better over the past few years in denying my buy-it-now-pay-for-it-later impulses. I have come very close to being in over my head several times and never, ever have I asked her to bail me. In fact, I�ve never asked anyone to bail me. I�m fortunate enough to have enough credit extended to me that there is always an existing account begging me to transfer balances at no or low rates for X amount of time and I�ve been able to rise above the flood by shifting balances when the low interest expires. Mind you people, I have not worked outside the home for almost five years now!!!!!! I get an �allowance� and that covers my debts and leaves some play money for me, but it�s nowhere near the 30K my salary was. And it�s ok. I�m okay with that. I have other compensation that has nothing to do with money. I don�t pay rent. I don�t pay for groceries. I have no car payment. I have a vehicle to use full time and all I have to do is put gas in it. I don�t pay insurance and I don�t pay for repairs. At least I�m ok with that until I have to deal with the fact that I have no medical insurance whatsoever. It�s not that I don�t think she�ll take care of me, but I can hear the bitching and moaning from miles away. So therapy goes well for me. I�m still seeing my counselor, Ms., aka my better half has been jokingly declared �cured� by hers. Cured as in Ms., aka my better half has gone as far as she is going to go at this point in her therapy and by god that better be good enough for everyone around her. And I can�t say there hasn�t been great improvement, but there is still room for more. Fortunately my therapy has gotten me to the point where I can actually communicate to Ms., aka my better half things that she does not want to hear. Things that make her mad. Unfortunately Ms., aka my better half has not gone far enough in her therapy to hear these things without reacting in a manner that is not conducive to free and open communication. You see, I am currently being given the silent treatment, which is what Ms., aka my better half resorts to whenever anything unpleasant arises on the personal front. And what arose this time is that when she started bitching and moaning about the cost of repairing my teeth, I got very quiet. And I was thinking about all the money that her ex pissed away and took away and this time when she asked me what I was thinking, instead of saying, �Nothing,� I had the temerity to be honest and tell her calmly and clearly exactly what I was thinking. So much for free and open communication.
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