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2008-03-09 - 11:13 p.m.

Kelly left to run at errand and so I'm taking this time to vent. Then, after I vent, I'm going to attempt to be proactive and productive.

I love Kelly. I love her, but I wish, god do I wish she had more... what's the word... inititave? more drive?

Something along those lines. She gets in her lulls, and she complains about them, but she doesn't do anything about it. She lost her job right before Christmas and I bet she's only put out two applications anywhere. She only works 15 hours or so a week at a part time job.

I can pay the bills. I could pay the bills even better if I was allowed to work overtime, but then she guilts me into feeling like I should be home, with her.

I don't care what job she has. I could care less if she worked at McDonalds or a grocery store or actually applying her degree somewhere. My thing is more this:

If she's not going to pay the bills, could she possibly do anything around the house? Straighten up, do the laundry. Something.

I know I might be coming across as... assholish perhaps.

But I can't get it around my head that I'm working... how many hours did I work last week? 50 hours? Maybe. I'm working 50 hours at a job where at.... no, okay, no I'm not going to make it sound more crazy than it really is. But this is what happened this past week, and you can take it as you want it:

Two kids attempted to kill themselves by hanging themselves. There were multiple fights, one where I had to restrain a kid and almost had a chair thrown at me. A student threw a phone at an officer and then punched out a window. People called out so there were multiple people working 16 plus hours.

It's not that my job is more important than hers. It's not. I know at any moment someone crazy could walk into where she is. She makes people happy doing what she does.

It's just that... I get two days off a week. Two days to rest and get geared back up. Two days to see my family and spend time with Kelly and work on the house. But part of those two days I want to spend just being lazy. Just sitting on the couch.

Kelly gets... let's say 4 days of this. And this, I guarentee, this is what she does: wakes up. naps. looks at baseball cards. looks at comic books. plays on the computer. maybe unpacks a box and does a load of clothes.

I'm not asking that she cleans the entire house. Just less of the comic books and baseball cards.

I just want her to do something. Either work and help me shoulder some of the bills or work and help me shoulder some of the cleaning. One or the other. I'd be incredibly happy with a housewife. I'd be incredibly happy being the one who cleans if I didn't work so much.

I think about my parents, during times like these, and think of how my mom kept things cleaned even when everything was going on, and I think she must have been more amazing than I ever gave her credit for. Her and my dad.

There's just so much here, so much to tap into, different ways of following this train. Like how we have so much stuff because of this "yard sale" Kelly has been planning on having for two years and how it's scarily like her mom.

But maybe it really just boils down to this: maybe I need to learn how to suck up fifty, sixty hour work weeks and spend more time cleaning. Maybe I can... No. Okay. I know I'm completely capable of handling this.

I am completely capabale of cleaning the house and paying the bills myself.

Maybe what I've got to choose, deep in me, if it's okay for Kelly not to do that.

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