The First

This is going to be quick,
but thanks to my being on Windows 7,
not only have the damn updates slowed me down much longer than I would've liked,
but with the Littlest Dictator being insistent that I play with her RIGHT NOW,
I'm worried I might not be able to get this out before I head out.

So my wife hit me today.
Not a gentle tap,
and not in jest.
In anger, and she kicked me.
With almost full force,
while the baby was lying down with me.

She was already in a bad mood,
but what apparently tipped her over the edge,
was when we disagreed on the date an event happened,
and then I realized that she was right.
And she fucking kicked me.
If she's hit a joint,
I could've been seriously injured.

Sure I work out,
and in a proper fight,
there'd be no contest.

But there's never going to be a proper fight.
And she chose the moment when I was with the baby and unable to even defend myself.

I doubt this will be a regular thing.
I doubt it will ever happen again.
But I feel the need to document this.

I've seen too many instances of men being abused,
and having either people not believe them
because they were so much bigger than the women who hit them,
or endure ridicule if it turned out to be true.

Damned either way.

This post will allow me to at least reassure myself that I've documented it.
I'm sure it'll never happen again.
A once-off.
But you know, just in case.

Well enough of that.

Swallow

I'll take the resentment. All of it.
It might even bring us to and over the tipping point. But I'll take it.
For both of them,
but especially our baby.

She deserves so much better,
and right now,
we're on the path downhill,
when we should be heading upwards.

I've vacillated between rage and resentment and acceptance.
She'll never truly understand.
Not really.

I can't spend all day every single day helping her out with the baby.
It's hard as hell,
and ours is more than a handful.
She's a legit hyperactive kid.

But the money's running out.
I can't spend two-three hours in the morning,
then afternoon,
then another few hours in the evening
helping to look after her
and then try to squeeze what little time I have left to work out
and do my work.

The fatigue gets to me every time.
Usually after a few days,
sometimes a week or more if I really push it.
But the debt is always paid back,
and the longer I hold it off,
the bigger the debt.

Add to that my existing problems with fatigue,
and it's a really toxic mix.

And she doesn't get it.
When I finally collapse,
she looks at it as if I'm being fucking lazy.
The derogatory remarks.
They bite each time.

Anyway.
I can handle weekends,
and the odd day of helping out more than I'm usually able to during a work day.

But we're already running out of money.
I don't know if my ideas are going to take off.
Definitely not going to be able to get a job any time soon.
And hell,
even when I had a good paying job,
the demands she made of me to help out make it impossible to work
unless I'm in the office every day... which I can't fucking stand.

Financially, we're at the brink.
I need to start making money. We need it.

She's in denial.
And it's clear as day to me that if she even somehow manages to
convince herself to work...
she'll eventually resent me for not working,
even if it's obvious I can't get a job.
Why?
If you're not Chinese or White in Singapore,
then it's extremely difficult to get a job.
Extremely.
You can argue with others about racism
and the extent of its reach in Singapore,
but that's a fact.
Anecdotal fact of course.
No proper studies on the effects of racism on minorities in Singapore.
Despite all the race-focused policies.
Funny that, isn't it?

Anyway, I need to get back to the grind.
Or try to.

I'll take the resentment. All of it.
But my baby will get a good, decent life even if it fucking kills me and I die alone and lonely in a hole somewhere without warmth.

Well enough of that.

Anniversary

So before I get into the darker part of my thoughts,
I need to get this out of the way.
I'm fucked.
Only remembered our anniversary yesterday.
And it's fucking today.

And you know what's the really fucked up part?
It makes me even more pissed off
that I haven't even had the time to even think about it.

In the mad rush to try and find some
goddamn way to make money...
some way,
and getting constantly interrupted for hours daily...
I finally allowed an important day to just creep up on me.

God-fucking-dammit.

And we're struggling for money now,
so it's not as simple as ordering flowers and going out
and getting stuff.
This requires careful planning.
And besides,
even when I had money,
it always takes me ages to decide on something meaningful.

Now, on to the darker areas!

I'm tired. As usual.
So fucking tired.
I can see the disdain she has for any ideas
I come up with to earn money.

It's like the only real
way she sees is for my to get a typical job.
Never mind the fact that once we get an apartment,
we'll be locked into a cycle of debt,
and at the age of 34
and being non-Chinese or White in Singapore,
it's highly unlikely I'm going to be able to
climb up the corporate ladder much further.

Oh yeah,
and if I do get a typical job,
I'll end up being resented because hey,
who's helping her with the baby?

She forgets the hours and hours
I spend helping out.
Every fucking day,
throughout the whole day.

I've had her minimise my time to just a few minutes a day.
Don't get me wrong,
I love spending time with the baby,
I really do.

But. We. Need. Money.

She can't seem to grasp this basic concept.
Not really.

Personally I can't stay in an office.
Head in to work in the morning,
then leave in the evening. Every day.
Can't do it.

I had really sweet gigs,
where I could earn a lot
by working mainly from home.

I needed it.
I needed to not be in the office.

But she won't allow me to be left alone
to actually do some work.

Time and again I keep getting interrupted.
And she's so fucking defensive that
talking with her...
trying to reason with her is as exhausting as climbing a mountain.

And even if I succeed in convincing her
that I need TIME TO DO FUCKING WORK,
she just reverts to her old self a little while later,
claiming that because she sees me in the house,
she can't help tapping on me for help.
THROUGHOUT THE FUCKING DAY.

A big part of my losing my last two jobs was due
to my not being able to actually do my job.
From short toilet breaks that keep getting drawn out,
to accompanying her in putting the baby to sleep,
which can sometimes take an hour or two,
to just looking after her while she cooks or cleans.
Or sometimes just when she wants to rest.

I get that she needs help.
But the ship is sinking and it needs to be fixed.
The ship can be clean as a whistle,
with every little cup and saucer in its proper place,
and it'll be for nothing if it eventually sinks to the bottom of the ocean.

I NEED TO WORK.

So here I am now,
in Korea,
trying to get minor side projects off the ground
to earn SOME MONEY.

And some days I don't even have the fucking time
to complete a blog post. Not even five minutes.

Oh yea and the hypocrisy infuriates me sometimes.
She gets so fucking annoyed with me and the baby,
when she's writing something to a friend either on Facebook or
on the phone.

Hell, she'll even ignore me mid-sentence
to look at some Instagram post or to respond to a friend.

But when I'm trying to fucking WORK...
trying to respond to a client's query,
or to do the necessary research...
nope.
That's not the same thing of course.
She sees absolutely no problem in interrupting me.

So yea...
I don't know if my projects will work.
I don't know if the designs will sell.
But holy shit if we do nothing,
we'll gain nothing.

Why is that so hard to understand?
We had enough money to last a year,
and now we'll barely have enough for a month
when we're back in Singapore.

And the scary thing is,
I'm pretty sure she doesn't get even this.

Only choice is to keep moving,
even if it means drowning in the process.

Well enough of that.