Sick and Fat.

I’m not quite sure where to start.  Well, Saturday I had another fever, chills, body aches.  When I told N, he was like, “Oh.  Well, anyway, I can’t decide what I want to eat.”  😑  I honestly hadn’t really expected a different reaction.  By now his selfishness doesn’t really surprise me anymore.  So, he was going on for like 30 minutes about how he couldn’t decide what to eat and how he’s tired of all the places we usually get food from.  Then he started saying how all the fast food workers are stupid and they don’t care.  I was like, “Should they care?  They get treated like shit everyday.  I wouldn’t care either.”  He’s always saying shit about people in fast food jobs and retail.  He’s has the stereotypical Karen judgement against them.  Which to me, makes no sense.  At least those people HAVE jobs.  He works from home doing computer stuff, but the term “work” is used loosely here.  He doesn’t really do much, and he certainly doesn’t make very much at all.  These fast food and retail workers that he constantly degrades make more money than he does.  Anytime I’ve mentioned him getting a job, he said he refused to work at those places.  I was thinking, “Why?  Because you know people would treat you the way you treat them?”  He couldn’t hold a job.  He throws a fit anytime he’s even slighly uncomfortable.  There’s no way he could handle being “too hot” or being sore or having anyone talk to him in a way he thinks is insulting.  He gets defensive if I ask him even the simplest questions.  I once asked him if he needed a napkin while we were eating pizza and he got pissed at me and was like “I ALREADY GOT ONE.”  It wasn’t me being passive aggressive and saying he needed one because he was sloppy.   He had already sat down and I was still getting my pizza, so I was being nice and asking if he needed one while I was up….

ANYWAY.  He was going on and on and he said, “If nothing sounds good, I just starve.”  He says this all the time.  Like I’m supposed to feel bad for him?  I don’t.  I just said, “Okay.”  And I turned over to try to go to sleep because I felt shitty.  He said he was going out for smokes anyway and he kept saying if I wanted something he would still get it, but he would just starve.  I guess he expects a reaction from me, but I just don’t care anymore.  I don’t give a fuck if he starves and dies.  But I kept trying to say, “I’m not hungry.”  But he kept talking over me.  I said it like 4 times.  He always does this.  Any conversation we have usually consists of him man-splaining something to me, and if I try to contribute to the conversation at all, he just interrupts or talks right over me.

Finally he stopped talking long enough and asked me again if I wanted anything.  I said, “I’m not hungry.  I’m nauseous.”  Because I was sick and still had a fever.  He was like, “Why are you nauseous?  Is it because you at a whole bunch of tacos last night?”  I would like to add here, that he loves to make these little passive aggressive comments about my weight and how much I eat, and how skinny he is and how big I am.  I was like, “I didn’t eat a bunch, I ate 3.”  He said, “Well, I only ate 2 and they filled me up.”  Again, the passive aggressive, I must eat so much so that’s why I’m so fat, I guess.  Is 3 tacos too much?  I hadn’t eaten anything else all day because I’ve been trying to starve myself to lose weight, but is 3 tacos still too much? He snacks all day and gets no exercise.  I’m on my feet all day, running around, AND starving.

I responded, “I’m sick.  I have a fever.  That’s why I’m nauseous.”  He didn’t really say anything else, just said he was going to go get smokes and he’d get food later, but it would probably be raining and he would have to go out in the rain.  Boo fucking hoo.  Fucking melt in the god damn rain, why don’t you?

Sunday I felt better.  But I had to sit through an hour and a half of him man-splaining credit scores to me for the 100th fucking time.  And he repeats himself several times in every conversation, but if I ever say something that I’ve told him before, but I couldn’t remember that I had already told him (because I can’t fucking keep up with every fucking conversation I have with every single person I know.) he gets mad and says, “YOU ALREADY TOLD ME.”   But he can fucking repeat himself 80 times in a conversation… maybe because I’m the owner of a vagina, so I must be dumber and need him to repeat things to me so I can understand.

Then he said he was thinking about getting some new jeans for me, which, cool, thanks I guess.  But then he kept making these comments, like “It’s SOOOO hard to find your size.  It’s so big and you’re so short…”  Then he measured a pair I already have.  He said something like, “Well, these used to be a size X (I’m not putting my size here, it’s embarrassing), but you’ve stretched them out like 3 inches.  You’ve stretched out all your jeans a lot.  So I would have to get a much bigger size.  I have plenty of jeans, they fit me just perfect.”

And if I’m being perfectly honest, I blame him for me gaining weight.   Yes, I know…I need to take some accountability, and I do.   I’m a fucking fat ass that can’t control myself, but every time I get in a relationship, I get depressed and eat more.   And when I try to get him to buy healthier things, he just buys junk.   Or I’ll plan to eat a salad or lean cuisine when I get home and he gets a pizza or fucking McDonald’s.

So basically this weekend we have established he doesn’t care or take me seriously if I’m sick AND I’m a big, fat fatty.  My life is fucking awesome.