Travel... For work.  Well for me it's just a part if life.  A necessary evil, something that has to happen to bring home a nice slice of bacon.  And I have a job that requires travel, 6-10 week to be exact.  So not much since travel is defined as anything farther than 30 miles from out corporate office.  My husband thinks that any amount of travel is horrible.  When ever I mention my job it becomes an issue, I started my job April 28 and I've yet to travel.  I have one travel day next week and I'll be home by 3pm...  But OMFG it's travel...  The way my husband reacts to travel I might as well quit my dream job... Did I mention that I m lucky enough to have my dream job??? And I make 20k more than my husband, but the way he reacts I might as well quit and have us live in the poor house, course when I mention that to him I'm over reacting.  It's an f'ing lose lose here people and it's driving me insane.  And when I applied for this dream job of mine, totally supported by said husband he knew about the travel requirements... What the f do I do here?  Not only is this my dream job but we need the income that this job provides.  It's not like I hate my job or that he makes the majority of our income... Fuck it.  I'm close to a breaking point with the irrational alcoholic and about to choose my job over family.  And that is hugely against character for me...  It's almost like he isn't really family anymore, but how can I count someone as family with almost constant beratement and belittlement.

All I can say is John Lennon was wrong,  you need a hell of a lot more than love.

If you've seen Tyler Perry's Diary of a Mad Black Woman you get the reference, and that should tell you a LOT about where I am in my life right now.  Has my husband cheated on me, fuck if I know, have I chainsawed a couch, not yet who knows it may still happen.  Is my aunt Medea, no I have way better aunts, and amazing mom, wonderful step monster and countless amazing supportive relatives both adopted and biological.

I should probably take a moment to apologize for the run-on sentences and horrible grammar (and spelling) you will encounter.  This is a stream of conscience blog.  It's my therapy.  If it helps you, great.  If it amuses you, awesome.  If it offends or bores you... Stop reading.  I'm doing this to help me retain my sanity, not for you.

So now that that's out of the way....  My husband is an alcoholic, my mom is a recovering alcoholic,  Yup, I followed the pattern.  Damn it!  I tend to be a rather contrary person, I hate following patterns, but after millions of years of evolution I have to repeat some history might as well be daddy's.  Cause I'm totally the female version if mg dad.  No joke, we even look alike.  Not that I look like a man, I have huge boobs.

I little more history on the bs that got me to this point.  I have been with my husband since 1999, I am 33 now, I was 18 when we met and moved in together.   We got married in 2008, why the nine year time difference you ask.  At the time I would have said it was because I was  in school and didn't want to get married until I graduated.  Looking back it's because we shouldnt have gotten married in the first place.  He was in the middle of a divorce when we met ( that I didn't know about until a year  later) and I was 18 and looking for freedom.  We got caught up in young love/stupidity and never left.  Do I love him, I'll be honest I don't know.

So  I'm currently sitting in my car typing this.  I stated on the porch, but the crazy man decided to come out (in his boxers, supper classy). And yell at me more...  So I started this.