The man does not know how to ask someone to do something, he simply tells you it needs to be done. I'm so fucking sick of hearing "That stove needs some attention" or "I could use some water, here," or whatever. Fucking ASK me for something, I'm happy to do it. TELL me the stove needs wood, and my reaction is "yep, you're right." You can't tell him to change this, though, he doesn't get it. Yes, sad, but he just doesn't get it. Apparently, he's been this way all his life. That's no excuse, in my book.
Found out today that Rose's hours may be changing. If so, that means she will typically get home around 4. Four o'fucking'clock. As it is, she gets home at 2:30 on a good day, and I'm all but leaping out of my chair to get the fuck out. The time between my getting home and dinner is the only time I really have to myself, and now THAT might be taken away. You better believe that just depressed the ever-lovin' fuck out of me.
It's me and a bottle of port. Looks like tonight's game is not happening (chaosreality is fairly sick). I hate. Hate what? Hell, I could do the list, have you got time?