The One Where Jo Gets Angry - UPDATED

UPDATED AT THE BOTTOM.

Actually, angry doesn't begin to cover it. I am fuming, and the person I am most angry with is myself.

First, I apologize for my absence as of late. Mo whisked me away for a fabulous and fun- filled birthday weekend that involved copious amounts of alcohol, sex, and expensive gifts (not necessarily in that order.). It was a wonderful, if temporary, escape from reality.

Things felt good, really good, this week. We reconnected, I felt loved and appreciated. And that is exactly why, at this very moment, no one wants to have the misfortune of being within a ten-thousand foot radius of me.

Because where is my loving, attentive, and reformed husband right now? Damned if I know. I can make a pretty educated guess though, and it makes me want to blow a gasket.

Without going into too much detail (because lets be honest, I will probably forgive him at some point), let's just recap:

Mo and Jo get married. Mo and Jo want a baby. Mo and Jo can't have a baby, so Mo makes lots and lots of shitty decisions. Jo is too young to know any better, so she sticks around hoping Mo will change. Finally, at her wit's end, she issues The Ultimatum. Mo and Jo move far away and start over. Mo makes different shitty decisions. Jo decides to leave, but Mo convinces her to stay. Mo and Jo spend tens of thousands of dollars on IVF and conceive and miscarry three babies. Mo is alternately stupid and sweet, and Jo is torn between wanting to build the family she has always dreamed of and kicking her sorry-ass husband to the curb.

Have you followed all of that? Good. That just about brings us to the present, where Mo once again Fucks Up Royally, and then somehow convinces poor, naive, and optimistic Jo that he has learned his lesson and now fully appreciates the gem that she is and is turning over a new leaf.

And, then, predictably, Mo pulls another fast one and disappears for the weekend.

To be fair, I don't know for certain that he will be gone all weekend. I don't know that because he won't answer my calls or texts. What I do know is that he went out for a beer with the guys at five o clock, and I haven't heard from him since. Which means (since his phone is always glued to his hip) that he is ignoring me because he is doing Bad Things. Things he knows will piss me the fuck off, and so he does what all Total Assholes do and he avoids me for as long as possible. When he comes home (on Sunday, maybe Monday, if history is any clue), he will be contrite and full of apologies. He will assure me that he is Done with the Bad Things.

Until next weekend.

And I am sitting here typing this blog with my blood boiling because I knew he would fuck up sooner or later.

I just didn't expect it to be so soon.

(And, just to reassure my lovely readers, no I don't think he is cheating on me, and no he isn't doing anything illegal. There are many ways a man can Fuck Things Up that are perfectly legal and don't break any major vows. It still doesn't excuse his shitty behavior, or his complete lack of consideration for others.)

UPDATED TO ADD: Mo finally called me back at five in the morning to tell me that he was too drunk to drive home. He was very "What's the big deal?" and "Do you WANT me to get a DUI?" and "I can't believe you think so poorly of me." It is now noon, and he is still not answering texts or phone calls, nor is he home. I suppose there is little I can do at this point except give him enough rope to hang himself. Which, inevitably, he will. I honestly am disgusted with myself for allowing him to woo me once again, and to start thinking that things might actually be on track towards getting better. People seldom change, dear readers, and if you are waiting around hoping for someone you love to do so, I sincerely hope you are smarter than me and you have enough sense to realize that what you see is what you get, and probably always will be.