Escape plans have been delayed, but not cancelled. More details later.
M asked me on Sunday if I could “schedule” some time to show him how to use a sewing machine* to sew up his sails, since he has “hours and hours” of time on his hands. Whatever. I told him Thursday would work for me.
Thursday dawned, rainy and blustery – the perfect day to say indoors and Do Stuff. I showed him how to wind the bobbins, thread the machine, set tension and stitch width and I left him to it.
Half an hour later he needs help. Of course. I straightened him out and left the room again. Lather, rinse, repeat for about six hours. He kept making comments:
“Don’t you just want to take this out of my hands when you see how clumsy I am?” he asked. “Nope. You’re learning to use the machine – just as you asked.”
“My hands are just too big to do this easily,” he moaned. “Patience. You’ll get it.” was my reply. “But I don’t have any patience!”
“My back is killing me!” he whined. “Yes, it’s not a very ergonomic setup is it?”**
“It’s freezing out here!” “Well, it is an unheated room with a concrete floor.** Perhaps you would like another jacket?”
“I was really hoping you would just take over when you saw how hard this is for me,” and we’re finally arriving at the point of the whole exercise.
“I thought you wanted me to teach you to use the machine so you could do the work yourself. That’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”
“It’s become clear that you don’t want to work on my projects, so I thought I had to do it all on my own.”
“I did exactly as you asked,” and I left the room yet again.
The day did not go by the script he had written, and that was a huge disappointment for him. Can I call it a victory? No. Playing these games is so pointless that it can’t be called a victory. It’s stupid. It’s a waste of time. So, I’m looking at it this way – he got exactly what he asked for, no more no less. If he’s going to continue to ask for one thing but expect another, he is in for a surprise – I’m not playing the “guess what M really wants” game any more.
Friday morning and he “reminds” me that he needs to put fuel in his truck as he has an appointment in town. He “reminds” me that I said I would prefer he didn’t use “the card” for purchases and that he will need cash. Fine. I have a list of things to do while he’s out of the house, so I hand him a $100 bill.
“Is this a hundred?” he asks, holding it up to the light to be sure. As if I would be handing him a tenner when I know how much it takes to gas up his monster truck? I was beyond insulted, but let it go and he left. The nerve of him acting like that after I gave him the money he demanded!
I spent the next two hours sorting and packing. I hauled five paper grocery sacks to the Goodwill truck – no sense storing things that I haven’t looked at in three years. It’s nothing that he will notice, but my things are getting organized and will be easier to transport quickly. The more I look around, the less I want to take with me.
He has started a new evening routine. When I arrive home, he is reading a book on the couch or in “his” chair. He ignores me as I walk in, doesn’t even look up. After I take off my coat and put my stuff away he looks up as if surprised. He may or may not say hi, but he doesn’t put down his book. I make myself a cup of tea and settle in with my book or knitting project since he has made no effort to make food and now is not even mentioning whether or not he is hungry. I refuse to cook on the nights I get home after 7:30 PM.
He then puts his book down and wants to chat. About nothing. He just wants to interrupt and irritate me. I respond as little as possible because I am trying not to show how angry his disregard makes me.
Does he think this is the way back into my panties?
* I have seen him use a sewing machine on many occasions. He knows how they work and could have used the machine at any time without torturing me with his bullshit. This was all a ruse to coerce me into doing something that he feels I “owe” him, but I’m done with that now.
** But it’s good enough for me, isn’t it? I am required to keep My Projects out of sight and tidy so as not to offend his delicate sense of order. Whatever.