I came home by train, and talked with my co-worker on the way. We discussed marriage again, and I warned her once more not to do it. During the course of the dialogue, I told her that I work seven days a week and come home to chores every night, and she said my wife was lucky to have me, and wondered why it wasn't enough for her. Then she said that if she got married with me, she would be really happy. I don't think she would be. As a woman, she'd probably start to resent me for all the work I do, which is as bass-ackwards, but true, a lesson I've learned from being married. In any event, I do wish I had the chance to date this awesome girl, but it's impossible.
I met up with my son and his grandma at a convenience store and they did a little shopping, then we went back to the apartment together. Entering, I saw my former co-worker and his hot girlfriend walking out of the complex again. He was carrying a huge monitor to her car, and she was smiling a huge smile at her helpful boyfriend. I hope he never marries her and turns that thankful smile into a dismissive scowl for the rest of his days.
I went upstairs, cleaned up the floor and table, folded and put away dry clothes, did the dishes, searched around for the remote control for about twenty minutes before finding it, fixed the computer again, showered my son, finished fixing the computer, then went to sleep, knowing that the only thanks I'll be getting for everything involves blue balls, and the Sisyphean process of another appropriated paycheck and a messed up house for me to clean, tomorrow.
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