Pynchon

As things can get better, so they can also turn to shit.

Two things.

One.

Last night Lorraine decided that she wanted to do the online grocery shop. Fine by me as I had things that needed to be done (ironing). I booted up the PC, logged her into the website, reserved a delivery slot (for today, as it happens) and said, "That slot is reserved for 1 hour. You can everything done in an hour, can't you?"

"No problem", she said.

I reiterated what I had just said. "You only have 1 hour. If you don't get it done in an hour you will probably lose the slot and we will have to wait until late in the week or the weekend to get a delivery."

"Fuck off. I know what I'm doing."

OK, then.

Of course, an hour and a half later she hadn't finished. When she had finished, we had lost the delivery slot and will now have to wait until the weekend for the delivery. I tried to be philosophical, said that it "Didn't matter", but I was extremely pissed off. I had suggested to her that a good technique when online shopping would be to go through the previous purchased items list and tick everything that we always buy, as this could be done in 5 minutes, leaving her nearly an hour to choose everything else. It is what I do and, fuck me, it works! But, oh no, Lorraine thought that she would go through every single virtual shopping aisle and choose every single item individually.

Perhaps I find it hard to hide my emotions. It shows in my face. Anyway, Lorraine was extremely pissed off with me, the website and the universe in general. She went to bed fuming before 10pm leaving me to watch "The Ghost Squad" on Channel 4, which I became bored with about 5 minutes after it started. Eventually I watched the 10 minute freeview of Red Hot TV, had a wank and went to bed.

Two.

Lorraine has taken advantage of having the week off (we have builders in to fix the valley, do some re-tiling and replace chimney flashings) to do some decorating. True, she hadn't actually told me that she was going to be doing any decorating. She knows I would have freaked out, worried, fretted, lost hair, moaned and cried. Anyway, Lorraine has done a good job. The living room looks great. Beautiful off white.

On Monday Lorraine had taken down the shelves behind the TV and said that we would not replace them because she didn't like them. Fine by me. I have always hated anything behind or above my precious TV. Lorraine said that we would put up some pictures instead. Er... OK. So long as there was no hammering or drilling or anything similar involved. OK. Sorted.

Today Lorraine announced that she had bought some shelves to put behind the TV and that when Ian, her Step Dad, visits on Friday with his new missus to attend the Festive Gift Fair with us, he would be putting them up. Not good. (If you were to look in a dictionary at the definition of the word "Heavy Handed" you would be presented with a picture of Ian.) I asked her what she was playing at. On Monday she didn't want shelves. She said that she had changed her mind as she wanted somewhere to put her ornaments. I told her that I had not changed my fucking mind and that in my opinion now that the shelves had gone they were going to stay gone.

Argument.

I won't go into details. Suffice to say the question of exactly why we are living together was raised (by her) and she expressed an opinion that in January 2006 that that sad state of affairs might be subject to change.

Perhaps it is my fault? My Mom used to say (still does, actually) that I am unbearable to live with. She said that I am a domineering, moody, awkward, arrogant and inflexible little shit. Obviously she loves me dearly. Not my fault. I am an eldest child, you see. I was spoilt rotten, by my Gran, who instilled in me a sense of my own importance that the reality of life has done nothing to break down.

After the huge leaps forward in the past couple of weeks, it is a shame to report that at this moment I do not feel that I will ever fuck make love to Lorraine ever again.

Relationships. Don't you just love 'em?

I'm off to watch "Lost".