Bloody Gutful…

So…Bank Holiday Weekend was a COMPLETE let-down.

We  got up town for 10pm, by half past the Birthday Boy was feeling somewhat pissed, by 11 he had sobered up and felt sick and by 12:30 we were back home. We got around a total of 3 bars, so that was Friday; waste of time, effort & money, all because he thought it would be clever not to eat anything before drinking and to start drinkning at 7pm. I mean come on, to do that isn’t a wise idea at the best of times, less sp when you’re drinking Strongbow. Then there was Saturday, THE Party. So I spent all afternoon getting ready, to make sure I looked up to Elle’s expectations, for me to spend 3 and a half hours sat at a table with Elle’s parents & relatives being ignored basically, except for when someone let slip that I had stockings on then they became centre of attention. Wonderful. Anyways we brought her nephew home at 1am, so that his parent could carry on drinking, so that he could calm down and get some proper sleep, though to be fair, it wasn’t Birthday Boy’s idea to have a party, he didn’t  actually want a party but his family arranged it all behind his back. Poor sod.

Yesterday I had my Godson so so much for going anywhere yesterday and having a good time, although I did enjoy having him until Elle started a row in bed whilst he was asleep, she slept in the spare bed last night, which incidently is where she is now. Then there was today,we took my Godson home at around lunchtime then we came home and had a little sleep. So far so good I mistakenly thought but then we had wonderful sex and honestly, it’s the first time I’ve feltwanted/needed/loved/special/all of the above for a long time. We even went for dinner with my Dad after.

It was such a nice day until Elle decided she wanted to go to her parents house to walk the dogs. I should have known better, something always happens and it always get’s blamed on me by Elle, she should have known better too. I’d already had 3 drinks by the time it came to taking them, so anyways we get the halti on one of them and I take him outside whilst she gets the halti on the other. So the one I ve got starts playing up because he hates the halti, he’s doing all sorts of twists and turns around me, then the next thing you know he’s bitten his tongue and is lying on the floor, to cut a long story short Elle panicked, but he was soon up and playing again, we decided not to take them after that and we’re walking back home and Elle gets upset and starts blaming me for what had happend. I snapped and told her it wasn’t my fault and that quite frankly no-one else is bothered about the dogs, and seeing as everytime I’m near them something happens, she can walk them herself from now on, so she starts going on and on about how I’m this that and the next thing and how I’m not good enough and never do anything right and all the same sob stories as before, I told her last night I’m fed up of hearing them, so halfway home I decide that I’m not going to be spoken to like that so when we got in I put Moo lead on her and tooke her out, which got the following response…”Oh yeah your  dog gets a walk but mine  don’t”…so I walked out, after all and here we are again, separate beds. I don’t know how much more of this I’m willing to take, this may be the end of the line chaps. I think I may have had enough of this shit. I’ve had more than a bloody gutful and I’m starting to see things from a very different light. What a wonderful fucking bank holiday weekend, I wish I hadn’t bothered.