Irritated! (but then again, when am I not??)

Its 5:21. AM.  yes, morning.  I’m awake.  Want to know why?  Because I have a whiny, wuss of a husband.  He went to his chiropractor yesterday and last night was complaining his neck hurt and he thought something got pinched.  Well, he wakes up this morning and all I’ve heard for the last 40 mintues was huffing and puffing and groaning and hard breathing as if he were in mother freaking labor or something, and his stupid hand swiping across his face (he does this all the time to wake up, like rubbing his eyes, but he rubs like, from his eyes across his nose and oh Lord I can’t explain… it just makes this noise… this swiping noise that irritates me. I always tell him to stop acting like a freakin cat).  So I know what he’s doing… he’s trying to make it sound like he’s so damn in pain that he needs to take the day off work.  He hates his job, so any excuse to use a sick day he jumps on it, however, he knows I can’t stand that and I’ll bitch so he does his "act" like a kid would do to stay home from school. 

Now, the main reason I hate him just taking days off when he’s not deathly ill is because he’s got limited vactation days to stay home from work once Porter is here, and he’s only got about 1 personal/sick day left. Know why? Because he stays home for the stupidest stuff.  Like he whined to stay home the day I had a snow day.  Yep.  Used a day for no good reason.  Now we have vacations planned this summer and he won’t have any time to take off work because he has no idea how to prioritize.  Jesus- go to work and put in a half assed job for the day.  Most of the other assholes he works with do that every day.

Anyway, I’m laying in bed, trying to ignore his labor grunts, getting more and more pissed by the second because for the last 2 months I’ve worked with this horrible leg/back/tailbone pain from carrying his freaking child, and do I ever take a day off even though I can barely walk?  NOPE.   The more groaning and huffing he does, the more irriated I become, the more awake I become.  So he gets up, and I just want to yell "Get in the mother freakin shower and shut up!"  Well then he comes back to bed and asks me to trade sides, b/c I have the heating pad on my side for my hip and leg.  So I roll my fat ass over and hope he’ll shut up his moaning and groaning.   I then realize I’m out of luck and I’m actually hungry for some Frosted Flakes, so I hurl my crippled butt out of bed and limp to the kitchen, get some cereal and head down here.  He then has the nerve to come to the top of the stairs and tell me to answer the phone if X or Y calls (his supervisor or boss) and I tell him I don’t have a phone.  Guess what he tells me… "Come up here and get one then" Like its my job to answer the phone and deliver it to him because he wants to call into work.  Whatever.  Looks like I’ll be locking myself downstairs because he’ll park his ass in front of the TV with ESPN on all day- and that in itself is enough to irritate the hell out of me.   

I guarantee if I were a fly on the wall right now, I’d hear not a peep of huffing and puffing and groaning because he is probably sweetly sleeping knowing he’s called into work.  He’s done putting on his show- he has no audience right now.