Cross Country Commute

I got home last night, still quite freaking out about this potential move to London, so what do I do. I go to my partner, my love, my live-in boyfriend.

But rather than getting support, he looses his shit. Again.

‘What do you mean we have to move to London?’ ‘Why did you talk him into that?’ ‘We’ve got a mortgage.’ ‘What were you thinking?’

I am really getting sick of him. I know he doesn’t like his job. I know he misses Glasgow, but I didn’t force him at gun point to move to Dundee. And I was happy renting, he’s the one that insisted on buying.

I mean, I love HP and all. I really do. But lately we’re fighting so much. It’s just getting on my nerves, and I don’t feel like I can ever say anything to appease him.

It ended last night with me in a huff saying, ‘Fine. I’ll commute to London then. Live with my mum during the week and here on the weekend.’

I said it because it sounded ludicrous in the heat of the moment, but right now it’s not sounding too bad. I could use a break from HP. I could help mum with the under-occupancy thing.

In truth, I’m just exhausted. And this bloody Referendum is working my nerves. And I’ve got an Intern I have to take care of now. She keeps asking me stuff about the database, but I have no fucking clue. I didn’t have time to take the training. She just needs to take some initiative.

I guess we all just need to take some initiative.

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