Himself

Yesterday (Sunday) I lucked out. “Himself” arose unusually early for one of his days off, got dressed, and headed out to who knows where. So I got to take a nice (albeit cold) shower. I usually skip them on weekend days if he’s home because I never know when he’ll wake up suddenly and rudely demand to use the bathroom in a hurry.

Good manners and civility are definitely not Himself’s strong suit.

Last night Himself annoyed me to no end with the most ridiculously stupid demand. Upon doing my morning, er, “business”, I noticed the roll of toilet paper on the spindle was very low, almost out, so before I started I made sure I had a fresh new roll handy in case I needed it. I parked the new roll on the windowsill right next to me.

Turned out I didn’t need it — upon completing my, er, “task”, there was still a little left of the old roll to spare. So I left it on the spindle and left the new roll on the sill for future use.

Well, Himself didn’t like that I did that — and that evening he brusquely told me that I should have replaced the roll on the spindle and thrown the little bit of the old that was left in the trash. (Mind you, this is the first time he’d spoken to me in three days.) I tried to argue, but he cut me short and left the house.

Later on, when Himself was back from his evening walk, he had nothing to say to me except “Don’t forget to change the toilet paper.” Geez… I thought he had already taken care of that himself, but no.

What a stupid, trivial thing to obsess over! Especially for someone who lives with a mountain of crap in his living room reaching halfway up to the ceiling… not to mention the state of the rest of the house!

I dislike Himself more and more each day. I’ve got to get out. Perhaps as early as next month. I’ve got a plan.