Not Happy

Sam talked about his tax bill for 7 hours straight today, yesterday, I'm not exaggerating, until my ears were, literally, bleeding. 

It is fair to say he was upset about it.

I got nothing done on my day off, after lunch. Nothing. He kept at me to calculate figures for him. But I want to waste my time doing meaningless, things that interest me and keep me from thinking about my awful job that I want to quit.

He says he is quitting work if all he does is work to pay tax. I'm all for someone quitting their job and doing something else. But what is that something else?

And you don't want to make yourself poor in the process, either.

I just wanted to play around with my blog, you know, the waste of time olympics. That's what I wanted to do. I'm nearly done adding AI images to my blog posts.

But, you know, you have to listen and take interest in your partner if they have a concern, now don't you. Oh, yes you do, that is apart of the boyfriend agreement. 

So I listened, I calculated figures - Jasus, anyone would think I was an accou, an accou, no, I can't say it - right up until we started back onto it again later in the evening, then I had to say, Sam, enough. I felt awfully disloyal doing it, but it was getting towards a case of self-preservation by then. Chuckle.