Tired

 Tired of feeling sad, hopeless, trembly, unwelcome, and always waiting for him to attack me in a new way.  Every time he walks down this hallway my guts tense up like nobody's business.

It's mostly yelling, intimidating, and loud.  So.Effing.Loud.  No way for me to get a word in edgewise.

I am gong to get up early tomorrow, and get out of this house for a bit.  No clue where I will go, but I sure as heck not gonna hang here all morning.  

I do have a glimmer of hope on the horizon.  Can't say much because I believe in jinx.

So, here's what he thinks happened.  Regarding the golf course debacle.  

I, supposedly, told all the golf boys to use the word "stuff" around him, because that word, for some reason, sends him into a panic.  

"I've gone 20 years without hearing that word, there's no other explanation, you coerced them."

The word "stuff" is iconic in our language.  It is used everywhere, but in his world, it is an attack.

The ice in our freezer has become invisible.  I am a big fan of having lots of ice in my water, or whatever I am drinking.  I like my drinks very cold.

I wonder if "someone" is chucking the ice somewhere, just to cause me some misery?  

Jeez, now I sound like him!  I gotta get out of this place!

P.S. I know he is dumping the ice, I heard him this morning.  

xxoo