J-Fed's New Move

It was just last week that J-Fed and I had our latest and greatest argument.

I believe he had asked me to drop the kids off at his apartment so that he wouldn't have to drive down to my house. Why did this make me so angry? Because at the time, I was till working while he was not. And I still had a ways to go... while he would simply be hanging out with The Jeffersons, the Cosby's or the Seavers, depending on what his television was tuned into. 

After listening to J-Fed attempt to plead his case (which he didn't have), I became frustrated. Strike that. I became downright livid. With each passing second, he continued to peel away the layers until I was completely raw and transformed into a raving bitch. All of this effort I could have invested into working was being invested... into him.

"I'm sick of always giving into your shit. You f*&k me time and time again. I've had enough," I yelled.

"How do I f&*k you all of the time? Cause Lord knows, I sure didn't f*(k you when we were married," he said bitterly.

Suddenly, it seemed like old times. We were back to arguing like two little children, fighting over the last piece of cake, even if we weren't hungry. I'm not certain why I was so angry. I guess I felt like he was taking advantage of my extraordinary kindness (NOT!). Everytime I gave an inch with J-Fed, he took a friggin kilometer. Needless to say, I proceeded to beat him down verbally, reminding him of how many times he'd screwed me over or changed plans at the last minute when it came to visitation.

He calmly asked me not to yell at him, and suddenly I realized there was something very wrong with this picture. He was calm. Strike that. He wasn't just calm; he was easy like Sunday morning. Meanwhile, I was so frustrated I felt like my head was going to pop off. It irked me that I'd let him get the best of me, while he was over there in la-la land not feeling a care in the world. The conversation concluded at that point.