The Return of the Prodigal Wife
Yes, tonight's the night. She's moving back in. Somebody told her she'd better do it if she wants as much custody of the kids as she's expecting.
She waited until my mother went back to Texas. She came when I was in the hospital to help out with the kids, because my wife certainly wasn't going to. Her and my father were a huge help while I was in the hospital and afterwards when I wasn't 100%.
She's going to be here at 9:00, after she's done "working out at the gym." Give me a fucking break. Why don't you come back sooner and cook food for your fucking kids? Act like a fucking grownup parent instead of booty calling.
I'm stressing the fuck out. My life has turned from a living hell to emotional pain incarnate.
I went to the hemotologist today to find out if I have a genetic disorder that would explain my symptoms and can easily be treated. The hospital fucked up the blood test. I had to give more blood and I'll have to wait another week to get the results. If it's not what they think it is, I get a liver biopsy. Sure... I won't be stressing out about that or anything.
I broke a crown too. Dentist says I've been grinding my teeth lately. Yeah, no shit. The crown has been perforated for a while, letting in bacteria. Now I need a root canal. Joy. Those are always fun. That's something that I need right now.
Hernias, surgeries, family falling apart, kids in kiddy hell, unidentified bouts of transient liver failure, multiday hospital stays, MRIs, CT scans, internal ultrasound procedures, botched tests, and now broken teeth while my wife is moving back in.
I've figured it out. I'm fucking Job. I'm the subject of a mean spirited bet between supernatural entities to see how much shit I can take before I detonate or go postal.
This is tomlet reporting from his own personal Hell.
I'll let you guys know how it went tonight.