Dear Wyatt,
You know I love you very much, right? And, I know that you are beyond annoyed by my "nagging about the bathroom", which is why I am blogging about it-- mostly because I know you aren't interested enough to actually read anything I put on here, and you don't even really understand the point of a blog... but I need to bitch about this to someone... again.
For our anniversary, I asked that the only present I wanted, for our FIRST wedding anniversary, was that you finish the half finished bathroom. In February of 2009, just a mere five months after we moved into our first home, you decided to spend the majority of the $7500 refund we received for our house purchase on gutting and remodeling the bathroom. Now, despite the fact that one of the major things I was most excited about when we bought this house was the fact that my entire life I lived in a house with one bathroom, I allowed this. I grew up in a world where it had become acceptable for the other females in my family to walk into the bathroom while I was showering, and sit down to take a crap. Actually, my mother liked to use this time for bonding-- taking the time to talk to me about my day and any of the problems I might have been having. This is the world I grew up in. This was an everyday occurrence in my most formative years. Knowing this, how can there be any mystery why I am absolutely fucked up.
With this in mind, the idea of the luxury of a second bathroom seemed like a glorious move up the social ladder for me. Sadly, I only was able to enjoy this luxury for a few priceless months before Wyatt destroyed all functionality of my second bathroom, and left it a naked husk; a shell of what was once a bathroom. We spent the majority of that refund money on that bathroom-- three different kinds of tile, new fixtures, a new sink and toilet, exposed aggregate concrete counter top, shower shelf, and shower bench that look like beautiful replicas of the remains from Pompeii that my father in law made himself...
But, alas, my beautiful bathroom sits half finished because someone whose idea it was to start this fucking project got pissed halfway through because laying tile "is frustrating" and, now has lost all the will and motivation to finish it... for almost three years.
So what happens? I have to wait when Wyatt is in the bathroom, whether I need to shower or dry my hair or even just brush my teeth, for up to a half an hour some times. When we are getting ready, and a sudden "urge" hits, I am forced to blow dry my hair in the hallway with the dryer cord pinned in the door frame or put my make up on in the bedroom or brush my teeth in the kitchen sink... of course, that's if I am lucky to catch him before and am able to retrieve the things I need before he goes to do the deed. SO, when I don't catch him in time, and I have to wait to use the bathroom, I get yelled at for "always taking to long". Well, you know what? Maybe if I didn't have to wait for the half life of that radioactive waste you just dumped in the bathroom for it to be safe to enter, then maybe, just maybe, we could leave the fucking house on time.
It's always my fault. I'm the bad guy. I annoy him and nag too much. I need to drop it. I'm getting on his nerves.
All I ask for as a my FIRST wedding anniversary present was a finished bathroom-- a gift that would have been completely free being as everything for the fucking project has been bought and paid for, and sitting in my damn dining room for three years... or at least until I made him move it into the unused space of the bathroom so I didn't have two totally useless rooms in my house. But, I guess that being "frustrated" by tile is just too much of a hassle to please your beloved wife on the anniversary of the day she chose to spend of the rest of her life with you, and only you until death. Poor Wyatt. I am such a horrible bitch, aren't I? I am amazed he hasn't left me yet for being so demanding and unreasonable...
Now, both Xmas and my 25th birthday are coming up in December, and you know what? I'd even let him off the hook for presents for each holiday-- because, yes, my birthday is a holiday-- if he would just get over himself and finish that god damn bathroom. I am begging at this point. If he thinks he is tired of hearing me bitch, then he obviously has to idea how tired I am of bitching about it. Just make it happen, and wouldn't you know it? I would shut the hell up! Please? PLEASE!? Do this for me and the sake of the stability of our marriage. I've even offered to do it myself if he would just help me, as I have never tiled before. God forbid I fuck it up and hear about it forever.
What more do I have to do? How much longer can I stand this? How much longer can he honestly keep putting it off? Really?
If you want everyone to stop giving you shit, me to stop bringing it up, and if you want to have a happy wife... Please... FINISH THE FUCKING BATHROOM BEFORE I FINALLY SNAP AND TAKE YOU OUT WITH THE TOILET LID.
Love,
Bekki
Ha
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