Wasted Weekend

The next time that I complain that I have nothing to do on my two nights off from work, please feel free to slap me in the head, because I pissed away this past weekend.

There were bands playing on Monday night and I should have gone to see some. On Saturday and Sunday most of non-work related time is spent watching the fights that were televised the night before. A fight is more entertaining to watch when I do not already know who is going to win, so I must watch it as soon as I can before I read about the results in the paper or online.

My plan was to listen to the bands that were playing this week and decide which ones to see when I got home from work on Monday morning, after watching the Walking Dead show from the night before. On Sunday night, I got an email message inviting me to drink beer on Tuesday morning. I initially declined but then changed my mind while I was at work. I want to develop a social life in the day time hours, when I get off from work. Here was my chance.

I stayed home on Monday night so that I could drink beer on Tuesday morning, but then I changed my mind again because it was raining Tuesday morning. Now, 24 hours later, I regret being discouraged by dampness. What was I thinking? And, why did I not look for bands to go and see Tuesday night? Instead, I slept late and spent both of my nights off from work sitting on my couch, watching television. If I did that every weekend, I would lose my mind. I need to recharge my battery with the electricity of a live musical performance. Watching music on my television and computer is a poor substitute.

My Marriage

Getting married seemed like a good idea in 1992 and the second, third and fourth years of the marriage were enjoyable. The first year was full of fights, half of which I will take the blame for. I would guess that the first year of most marriages are rough, especially if the two individuals have not lived together before.

The trouble started when my wife had difficulty becoming pregnant. I had wanted to wait to start our family until we had our finances in order but I married someone that is even worse at managing money than I am. Once it became clear that our finances were never going to be in order, I stopped using condoms. Month after month, my wife would break down crying because she wasn’t pregnant yet. She blamed me, claiming that I had ejaculated all of my good seed before we met. I had to go to a clinic and have my sperm tested, and I passed the test. If I had failed, she told me that she would leave me for a man with healthy sperm. The pregnancy troubles brought to light a fact that troubled me. She did not love me. I was only a tool, a seed hose. She had herself checked out by a reproductive doctor and it turns out that she has scar tissue in her reproductive organs. It was only after she gave up hope of ever getting pregnant that she did. It was probably the stress of her wanting to get pregnant so badly that was causing it not to happen.

Once she was pregnant, our social life came to a screeching halt. My favorite thing to do is go to see live music, but now she refused to go to any clubs. I lost my concert buddy. I thought that this was only temporary and that we would rejoin society after childbirth but she crushed that idea quickly. She confessed that she had never liked going to see shows with me. She did not like the music I like, and did not care much for the rest of the things I like too. She had only been “Faking” enjoyment so that I would love her.

Having a newborn in the house will cause problems in every marriage, and my marriage was built on the lies that she had been telling. To add to the stress, I quit the job I had at the bank that we both worked at and started working for the USPS. She hated this idea, and told me that I was an embarrassment to her. She married the suit, not the guy who was wearing it.

Why do I still live with the woman that admitted to hating me 16 years ago? It was an ugly fight and she shouted those words, “I hate you” into my face. I was so hurt that I told her to repeat them, so that I knew our love was done. I had never felt her love as strongly as I felt that hate.

I promised my son, on the day he was born, that I would always be here for him. I know that he was only an infant and did not understand the words, but what matters most is that I know I made that promise. He did not pick the asshole that is mother. She was my mistake.

We will live together, the three of us, until my son finishes high school and is ready to start a life of his own. There is love between my son and I, and him and his mother. Too bad it does not go full circle. I do not argue much with her, because there is no emotion. I should hate her, since she hates me, but I do not. I wish her the best and hope that she has a happy life but I do not plan to be much of a part in it.

My Job

The work that we do is the thing that defines who we are. Sad, but true. Well, it is sad for people like me who have a job that they are not proud to admit to doing. Many people are able to brag about their careers. The only bragging that I can do is that I perform my job at least as well as the best person who does it anywhere else. Not everyone can say the same thing.

My job does not come home with me. Once I walk out of the workplace, I forget about what happened during the previous 10 hours that I have sold, including the time that it takes me to get back and forth to work. I am a wage slave. I am a machine operator, not one of the more exciting or interesting night shift jobs.

Working the night shift, and over the weekend, are the only complaints that I have about my job. I work from 10pm to 6:30am. This work schedule makes having a social life nearly impossible. Luckily, for me, I live just outside of New York City and I can find fun things to do on Monday and Tuesday nights when I am off from work. Still, I am at work when all of the best things are happening.

Selling my nights allows me to live comfortably, but I recently went over my monthly budget and discovered that I need about and additional one quarter more of my salary to enjoy life the way that I would wish to. I am not wishing for a mansion on a hill, but just to have as much fun as I deserve to every week. Every week, I need a reward waiting for me at the end of my grind. I live for my weekend, even if my weekend starts on Monday morning.

Questions answered

In the two weeks or so since I started this blog I have received two comments and one question, all from complete strangers. How did anyone discover this blog? It is not part of any of the blogging networks. Anyway, thank you for the compliments and I hope to keep you entertained in the future.

To answer the question, NO.

I should just leave it at that? Ha Ha.

I was asked if I am knew anything about the software that I am now using to write this blog. The person asking was having trouble with it. If you know me in the flesh and blood world, you know that I am not educated in the ways of the internet. I will most likely encounter the same problems that you have had.