Alone . . . Again

I am irritated as fuck right now.  My husband should be home tonight.  His job keeps him away Sunday through Friday . . . Or it’s supposed to work like that.  He should have at least 36 hours at home.  The weekends are OUR time.  Yet here I am again on a Friday night . . . Alone.

It is the same fucking complaint I have had for years.  We work extremely hard to keep our marriage working.  I know and accept that his job as a truck driver keeps him gone for five to six days each week.  He’s been driving truck for well over 10 years now.  I am used to doing things on my own during the damn week.  The weekends are meant to be for us.  We have learned over the years to make every minute count when he is home.

My irritation is two-fold tonight.  First, I am irritated with my husband because I told him multiple fucking times we have a 1300 appointment to have our taxes done on Saturday.  I know I told him more than once because it had to be rescheduled from last Saturday.  His job kept him out until late Saturday afternoon.  He claims I never told him a time.  I did.  He seriously needs to have his damn hearing checked.  I honestly do not know how many times I have to practically yell to be heard.  He can be about six feet away from me and still not hear anything I say when I talk in a normal tone.

He claims he will be home by Noon O’Clock.  We shall see.  He knows I am pissed.  He knows when I get this way, I stay this way for awhile.  I’m hoping he isn’t in a foul mood, too.  It will make for a super shitty weekend if he is!

Second, his job.  I am SOOOOOOOOO over him getting fucked over by them all the time.  If he so much as requests a morning off because he has a doctor or dentist appointment, he is punished for at least two weeks afterward.  They claim there are no loads.  I call bullshit.  It is their passive-aggressive way to punish drivers.  Heaven forbid he wants to take an actual damn vacation!  Not only is his vacation pay shit, but he will be punished for at least four weeks.

I absolutely understand the nature of the beast where truck driving is concerned.  My father was a truck driver.  My brother is a truck driver.  Trucking is in the blood.  However, he is supposed to be home on the weekends.  The dispatchers and office people at his company go home to their families every. fucking. night.  The least this company can do is take care of their drivers by ensuring they have at least 36 hours of home time.

My husband tries to schedule any appointment for the earliest possible time on Mondays.  He leaves early to make sure all of his deliveries are made on time.  If they are late, it is either due to Mother Nature, the load isn’t ready when told it would be, or the dispatcher does not pay attention to drive time.  He works his ass off for this company.  He is dedicated.

But he is getting fed up.  I have been fed up for a VERY LONG time.  My husband does not like confrontation.  He tends to be more passive-aggressive.  I, on the other hand, grab the bull by the fucking horns and body slam it.  I do not have a problem with confrontation.  I would love nothing more than to go to the company’s office and let them see me on full-blast.  It would be on behalf of all the drivers the fuck over every week.

My husband has started to look for a new job.  The problem he is running into has to do with the requirements he has.  He would prefer to be home on weekends.  He prefers regional.  Then there are the benefits.

I have told him I would not care if he is gone for two or three weeks at a time if he had guaranteed home time of at least four consecutive days.  I would adjust.  I would not necessarily like it, but I would adjust.

Right now, I really want some junk food.  Thankfully, we do not have any in the house AND I am too lazy to go out to get some.  So when I get off work in about 15 or so minutes, I will just veg out on the couch and watch a movie . . . alone.  By myself.  With the dogs.  And the cats.

Tomorrow is a new day.  He will be home.  We will go out to a nasty, greasy spoon diner across from the street from where our appointment is.  We will get some deliciously nasty, greasy, artery clogging, delicious food.  We will be together and the time will be quality time.

So, I shall follow this advice: