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The obnoxious kid in class proved himself to be entirely incompetent and entirely a douche bag last night.  Vindication at last.  He presented his website first and it was beyond terrible.  No color, no logo, a copyrighted image on the front page…  My 5 year old niece could have done a better job while drunk and blindfolded and drunk.  The kid who needed to blow his nose went last and had virtually nothing to show.  He had a single page, no working navigation, the colors he bothered to use were so bad together that it made the text illegible – unbelievable.  I have 2 very small things to fix on my site that were mere oversights on my part.

My salary increase letter came yesterday in my work email while I was in class.  A typical raise around here is 2% of your current salary.  This has been the way of things for the last several years.  I think the best raise I’ve gotten until now was like maybe 5%.  When I had my performance review meeting with my boss she told me that the base this year was again 2% but that she was requesting I get “more” to compensate for loads of extra things I’m doing, the stellar evaluations I get from my classes, and the many lovely letters from satisfied customers.

I got a 10% raise.  TEN PERCENT.  That is entirely fucking unheard of in these parts.

My mom is thrilled.  She worked for this university for 10 years before retiring to take care of my nieces, so she knows how this shit works.  Josh seemed almost entirely uninterested.  (or he’s feeling threatened – I now make precisely THREE TIMES what he does) He was more pissed that I wouldn’t go back out last night and get him ice cream.  For one, there was a container of vanilla ice cream in the fridge already.  For two, it was 7:30 by the time I got home and I was tired and hungry.  For three, he’s turning into quite the fat ass and doesn’t really need any ice cream.  He’s already admitted that the only way he sees his dick anymore is in the mirror, so I really don’t think he needs to keep stuffing his face like this.

Anyway, not sure if I mentioned or not but awhile ago – maybe just a few days, maybe last week, can’t recall clearly – Josh and I were laying in bed getting ready to go to sleep.  I was quite drowsy and almost there.  He was squeezing one of those pimple things on his ass – again.  He can’t seem to leave them alone.  Anyway, it oozed infection crap on his fingers.  He then proceeded to rub those fingers under my nose.

Read that sentence again.

Yes, he did.  I protested – loudly – about how utterly disgusting, disrespectful, and entirely uncalled for that was.  I asked him as nicely as I could to never EVER do that shit again.  He seemed to be completely confused as to why this bothered me at all, let alone bothered me enough to make an issue of it.

So there we are last night.  He’s off again, I can only assume about my raise and my unwillingness to contribute to his coming diabetic coma.  He lays down, presumably to snuggle me, and again whips the stinky fingers right under my nose.

This is just beyond disgusting.  The stuff that comes out of those things is almost pure infection, so you can just imagine what that smells like.  Never mind the fact that that ooze carries all of those germs and he’s getting that shit right up into my mucous membranes.  Great way to give your wife some kind of fatal internal infection, dude.

So I kind of flipped shit on him.  I told him AGAIN how disgusting and disrespectful it is and how I really don’t need him to ever do this again.  I turned over and refused to say anything further to him.

This morning he called me out for acting “annoyed.”  Gee, ya think?  I tried to explain – AGAIN – why I was upset.  I got the totally typical snotty apology that means nothing.  So I went and showered.  I got in before him, did my thing, and got out as soon as I was done.  We said barely 10 words to each other.

I just don’t get it.  He claims to love me.  He claims to like being married to me.  He claims to not be threatened by my education or my job.  But it feels like every chance he gets he treats me as poorly as he can get away with and still maybe be able to make it seem like I’m imagining the entire thing.

I’m happy to admit that I’m overly sensitive and I will sometimes see problems where none truly exist, but seriously, I’m pretty sure this isn’t all just me anymore.