This week I’m FOADing my husband and his World of Warcraft addiction. I am quickly reaching the end of my rope with it and I feel like a total hypocrite about it… but I don’t care. I’m sick to death of his gaming addiction.
Being a former gamer myself it’s hard not to feel like I don’t have a lot of right to say anything about it, especially since I gamed for years before he ever started. I had an excuse though, I was depressed, lonely and living in a foreign country. It was my escape.
After all those years hearing men bitching about their ‘wife agro’, I have become exactly that. I am a gamer’s wife and oh boy am I agro.
If I hear the following terms one more time I’m going to completely blow a gasket:
- One sec I’m fighting something
- Hang on I’m chatting with someone
- I can’t right now, I’m in a group
- Not right now! I’m dying!
Oh and lets not forget my biggest favorite:
- I can’t right now, I’m in an instance!
Then there’s the look. The one I get when I ask him to get off the computer to do something, usually something I’ve been asking for the last 2 weeks. It sort of looks like what you’d get in response to walking up and asking someone for a kidney… or if you farted loudly in an elevator.
Annoyance… resentment… frustration.
Today I finally finished my tree skirt and couldn’t wait to get it under the tree and get some pics. To do so, I needed him to hold the tree up while I put the skirt over the base as I didn’t make a slit, just a hole.
You’d swear I asked him to go to the forest and chop me down a tree with a butter knife, he was so displeased with having to walk away from his game for a few minutes.
It pisses me off more than usual because Christmas is a very hard time for me. We have no close family in the country, his family lives in the south of France and all but one of them despise me and my own family are all an ocean away. Plus, all our friends are expats so they are either going home or going away for the holidays, leaving just Xander and I.
I’ve really been trying to make the best of it this year. To psych myself up to really believe this was going to be a wonderful x-mas. I finished my tree skirt and was giddy and excited about decorating.
His foul mood alone didn’t piss me off, it was the fact that he couldn’t just set it aside for a few moments so not to spoil MINE, when it’s already teetering on the edge of holiday homesickness.
Now my tree is standing crooked and nothing on it but lights and I honestly can’t be arsed to do anything more with it tonight. I’m sure I’ll feel differently tomorrow, but then I’ll also be home alone.
So, for ruining my self-made-so-I-can-cope holiday cheer, today… my husband can fuck off and die.