Confessions of a Bitchy Wife

It's time to take a break from the regularly scheduled program, that being my traditional J-Fed bashing blogs.

I'm empathetic... to a fault.

They say you learn something new every day... and they're right, whoever they is. As my relationship with Mr. Ex evolves, I've learned some things about myself. For starters, I was a bitch and a shitty wife. Let me re-phrase that, I wasn't a bad wife perse, I was just a bad person. I only realize this when Mr. Ex and I commiserate about our separate marriages.

As I listen to Mr. Ex recount tales about how he was treated by Ms. Ex, his former wife, I squirm in my seat uncomfortably. Our behavior was similar to the point it was uncanny. I can't speak for how Ms. Ex acted, but I will disclose my own personal indiscretions.

When J-Fed and I got married, I promised to love, honor and obey. What my vows should have said was that I promise to love, honor and bitch at you until the cows come home. By the end of our marriage, I think I had sucked the life out of J-Fed and swallowed his soul whole. Of course, it was a two-way street, but that's a blog for another day... well every other day.

I guess the first problem was that from our first date I was determined to transform J-Fed into someone else. I had high expectations and I knew I could mold him into a good husband and father. And even J-Fed agreed that he had room for improvement. But unfortunately determination turned into disenchanment. As thin turned more into thick I started to become the consumate nagging, miserble wife. So here's just a laundry list of all of the things that I did to poor J-Fed. By now, we all know the things he did to me.

Get a haircut and get a real job -- I couldn't stand it when his hair became unkempt and he refused to shave. It was drive me insane. I'd look at him and wonder where my husband was. Was I sleeping next to a vagrant or was it my imagination? J-Fed was a good-looking guy to say the least. But when he didn't take care of his appearance, he looked like 10 pounds of shit in a 2 pound bag. So what did J-Fed do? He let his hair grow longer and his beard get scruffier until he looked more like David Koresh than the handsome hunk who I'd fallen in love with. But in all seriousness, if I let myself go and I suddenly looked more like Miss Piggy than Miss Cutie, I'm sure he would have voiced some concerns too.