Saturday, August 3, 2013

Grumble, Grumble, Grumble



Years ago I was very foolish and allowed someone to move into my house.  Biggest mistake of my life.  The second biggest was permitting him to stay as long as I did.  But that’s not for today’s blog.

One morning I awoke to find the flooring I’d picked out and installed myself, the flooring I genuinely adored, the flooring that made me happy to see on a daily basis, had been replaced with the most butt ugly ick in my pretty white and pale pink kitchen.  Just the kitchen, not the dining room leading into it or the open panty on the far side of it.

My ex was on vacation that week and had stayed up all night, replacing the floor he decided was impractical for a kitchen.  (Yes, it was.  The whole white and pink kitchen was impractical but I liked it and it was my house.)  When I got up and was on my way to collect my lunch so I could go to work he waited in the living room for me to find it.

My reaction, as you can guess, was not at all what he was expecting.  Let’s just say that it’s a good thing I had to go to work that day.  He may not have survived if I’d had the day off too.  Especially after he attempted to use the argument that his ex-wife always liked when he did things like that to surprise her.

Ten years into our relationship and I was still being compared.  (Can’t tell you how often I suggested he should just go back since that was obviously where he wanted to be.  And no, I was not the other woman.  We met after they’d split up.)  Ten years and he was still entirely clueless about me.  Nope, didn’t ever bother to get to know me at all.

Today, ten years later, I scrubbed the offensive floor, not something I do all that often because it angers me all over again every time I do.  It’s still as butt ugly as it was the first day.  I may hate it even more since it’s starting to fade and now has a kind of sickly yellow cast to it.  If I look at it for too long it makes my skin crawl.

In case you’re wondering, no, I am not going to do the obvious and replace it.  There are far too many bad memories in this place for me to ever be able to make it mine again.  So for now I will deal with living here until I find a way to get out.  Still looking for that part time job.  Keep me in mind if you hear of one, okay?  And please, if you’re ever considering replacing a floor for someone as a surprise, ask yourself this.  Has the person you’re doing it for ever once given you any indication that the floor was in need of replacing.

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