Saturday was my birthday. 45 years old.
Think about that - anyway you look at it; my life is over half over. Take into consideration that my father died at 68, round that down, we're talking almost 80% done.
And if what they say about despair and lifespan is true, that ought to bump the needle up well into the 90s.
Will I even see 46?
Do I care?
***
MW is about to lose her job. It's a little complicated, but the up-shot is they are taking away her part-time status; forcing her to go full-time. I'm not sure if they're doing this to try to get rid of her because she acts weird, or if they really can't have any more part-time employees. Note that they did make an exception when they transitioned her into a new position - they allowed MW to keep her hours even when everybody else had to change schedules, and for years now she's been the only part-time employee in her group.
It gives them an easy out: MW's behavior around the office is odd; but she hasn't fucked up the job yet, so instead of firing her, just push her to 40 hours and wait.
She won't last a week.
For me, this means I'll no longer have four hours alone on Saturday to get shit done around the house. I won't be able to do laundry, clean the bathroom, or cook the hard-boiled eggs I eat everyday for lunch. My future has become smelly and hungry.
For MW, this has pushed her closer to hopeless depression and created more of those hot-anger spikes. Bouts of weeping followed by near-violent outbursts of rage. I have to gently talk her down from filing a lawsuit, then withstand the attack when she accuses me of being against her.
Her fear is being alone and lonely all day. I've suggested taking classes or volunteering somewhere - but this advice is ill-received.
And, as I stand there taking the ceaseless tirade of what a worthless, terrible, pathetic person I am, I nod my head and consider:
Alone and lonely. Yes. That's where we're going.
***
Take, for example, my birthday. The only people who acknowledged it were my brother (who sent an email) and a co-worker who saw it on the firm's calendar and poked his head in my office to wish me HB. Not even MW remembered - though I don't blame her. She's going through a lot.
And I'm not complaining - this is entirely by design. I can't trust family or friends not to say anything that might upset MW so I've pushed everybody away. I've worked very hard to establish alone and lonely. Once MW loses her job, that's another little triumph for my master plan.
Achieve total isolation; then wait around to die.
Perfect.
***
The frequency of MW commenting on uncontrollable movements is increasing. I assure her it's nothing; happens to everyone; especially as they age. I've even started twitching some of my own limbs at odd moments - hoping she'll notice and think it's normal.
There's one for the medical books - sympathetic HD.
***
One thing that's confusing/annoying me is MW's weight. Two years ago she was highly worried about weight loss. Now she's concerned that she's putting on the pounds. And she has gotten quite large around the middle. What the fuck?
I'm sure this has more to do with getting sober than sympathetic HD, but I've lost over 30 pounds since October. Again, I rather hoped MW would somehow think it is normal for certain people to get trim as they grow old. You'd be surprised at what I can get away with when it comes to lying. But now that's backfired on me and all I've got to show for it is a couple of crudely punched holes in my belt and one pissed off wife.
She yells at me for looking thinner while steaming with anger that she's gotten thick.
That ain't right.
