A$$hole

Another fun time last night.  Not so much the screaming Scarlett, no.  Last night it was more the martyred Scarlett with a little Joan of Arc thrown in just for fun.

As an aside, I found out from a nearby informant that what Scarlett thinks she ran through in total over this past year is only the amount she spent on foolishness, nonsense and self aggrandizement.  In fact it is nearly double that amount.  Anyway....

So I'm in my usual spot in the living room, doing some reading,thinking, note taking, wishing, fantasizing, wondering when who should my wandering eye see waltzing into the room?  Nope.  Not her and not them.  Scarlett.  Always Scarlett.  Kind of reminds me of Raiders of the Lost Arc - snakes, why does it always have to be snakes?

Well she wants to know when I'll be calling it a night.  Don't know.  I'll wait for you.  No need, I'll be in the other room and it will be late anyway.  Or maybe I said she looked very decomposed and smelled like hell.  I swear it was the former but the reaction I received leads me to believe it might have been the latter.  In any event, *it* was on.  Before she even started I'd already made up my mind to just remain silent.  Which I did with one small exception.

According to Scarlett, who has apparently acquired a medical degree in the past couple of days, I am sick.  In the head that is.  So sick in fact that I should be in a hospital.  Attended to by experts not the quacks I am currently relying on.  I am angry.  So angry.  And on the verge of violence.  It was that statement that forced me to speak.  

Violence?  

Yes.  The other day you almost hit me.  

The other day?  You mean the day that you kicked in my door 3 times?  The day you were screaming at me?  The day you told me that our dog who will be soon be 14 needed me here and therefore I was a selfish so-and-so for even thinking of leaving?  That day?

Yes.

I looked at her (glared would be more accurate) waiting for the light bulb to go on above her head.  I guess no one was to home....

Then, without really missing a beat Scarlett declares that she *knows* (she knows so many things that just aren't so) that the reason I came back was to punish her and make it so uncomfortable that she would leave.  Well, I was told in no uncertain terms that she will never leave.  And as an aside to this, my nearby informant tells me that Scarlett has claimed that no matter what this farce of a marriage will not ever end.

And on that note up the stairs she flew (without the aid of a broom) and began slamming doors and drawers.  Stomping around, slam slam, stomp stomp.  Until she tired herself out.

The next time I saw her, about an hour later was in response to a cry from upstairs - Oh my God, what's happened? I heard her say.  Found out the TV had gone out on her.  Now for Scarlett this is a major, major emergency.  So even though I'm a pri*k I fixed her precious little TV.

Next thing I know, about 45 minutes after that, she's downstairs talking about how red everything was, blood all over place and she looks like she's somewhere else.  What?  The TV? A dream?  What?

Well...Scarlett has been having some bleeding issues that on Tuesday a colonoscopy is going to be performed to try and find out why.  Scarlett is convinced she must have cancer and that therefore I will not have to wait very long to not be married to her.

If only my luck was running that good!  And no, I shouldn't say that.  I wish her no harm and frankly a long and healthy life.  I just don't care to share in that life.