Roomie is a Fucking Bitch

And she has the attention span of a damn goldfish when it comes to anything outside her circle of interest.

Last night, after I got ready for work, I came downstairs to grab a bite to eat.  Roomie and Wifey were watching some stupid Hollyweird awards show or something.  I noticed that the sound was coming from the TV speakers instead of the surround sound unit.

Normally, when you turn the TV on, it automatically turns on the sound system, with the appropriate input activated.    The power blinked yesterday, and whenever that happens, the TV and sound unit forget that they are attached.

It is painfully easy to fix, and I’ve explained the procedure to Roomie at least a dozen times.  The problem is that if it is a technical problem (anything to do with electronics or technology in general) I have maybe three seconds to either fix it, or explain to her how to fix it in a way that she understands.  If it goes beyond that three seconds, she tunes me out, and my time would be better spent banging my head against the wall.

Fuck it, I’ll just live with it the way it is.  

Even when I’m less than a minute from having it fixed.   Whatever “it” is.  Telling her that I’m almost done, and could she please just give me a little more time, just makes her madder.

I didn’t even have three seconds to fix the TV last night.

Quit fucking with the damn sound.  I had to unplug everything just to get it to work tonight.   

That’s because you quit listening to me about a nanosecond after I try to tell you that after a power failure, you have to manually turn on the sound system first, then the TV.  (Yes, it is that simple.)

I didn’t actually say that.  I just tried to do a quick power cycle to get it working properly.  It would have taken less than thirty seconds, start to finish.  I had picked a break in the show, so she wasn’t missing a damn thing, not that there was anything to miss.

When she started throwing a fucking hissy fit (less than ten seconds in), I simply turned off the sound system and left her with just the TV speakers.  It wasn’t worth the fight.

Fine, deal with the shit sound.  Have a nice fucking life, I’m going to work.  

It pissed me off, because the sound system sounds so much better, and I want her and Wifey to be able to enjoy the few nice things that we have.  If the fucking twat just had a RCH more damn patience …

I softened my tone, turned to Wifey and said, “Спокойной ночи” (good night) and walked out the door.

Want to know the worst part about all of this?   I’m sure she had forgotten the entire episode before I even got to work, less than five minutes later.  She blows up, makes a complete ass of herself, and then forgets it seconds later.  Remember what I said about her attention span.

That shit ate at me all night.  I hate that I reacted so strongly about nothing.  I hate that I give a shit enough to want her to have the enhanced acoustic experience.  Why do I fucking care?  Obviously, she doesn’t.

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