OFP

So I recently conformed to society, and have a new boyfriend.  On a scale from 1-10, he falls between an 11-20 depending on the day.  And last night marks our first real fight...

For New Years, we both had to work all day and felt like doing nothing except snuggling and going to bed likely before the ball dropped.  So, we decided we would meet at my dad’s house, search for my phone (again) and then go to his house for the night.  I had talked about how I needed to do a few things around the house, laundry included, but I could tell he was antsy to get home.

“Lindsey, let me help you find your phone.”  “Absolutely not.  Sit and have Chinese with my dad, my room is a mess.” I say as I walked away, and didn’t hear his  “Fine”

……no phone was found, so I quickly packed a single bag. “Alright, I’m ready to go.” 

“Where’s your laundry?  We already discussed it.  We’re doing it at my house.”

“I changed my mind, I’ll do it Monday night when I get home from work.”

“Nope, we have lots of time tonight and tomorrow night, and it will make you feel so good to have it all done.”

“But…”  “Please go get it,” “NO!” “Please?”

…..a lindseyfern-bitch-fit ensues…..

I storm up to room, so absolutely peeved that I was following orders from a man.  Stomping my feet, throwing clothes; all out dramatic scene. I heard my dad say to my step mom,  “She’s on her OFP again…”  Dad made this up to mean: “Own Fucking Program.”  And you’re damn straight I am, have been since the minute I was born, and probably will be until the end of time, so why in the hell is this so shocking?  I want to do laundry when I want to.  I want to clean, or simply not clean my room and use excuses like “I’m busy,” “I’m too tired” or “I’m never home.” 

I have a boyfriend who works three jobs, just got into Grad school, has a family whom he makes dinner for or takes out to dinner frequently, helps out around his mom’s house, goes to a sporting events and concerts constantly, of which I now get to go along, and somehow still finds the time to genuinely make my life easier EVERYDAY. He finds time to play basketball at 530 am before work, and works out at his little gym at 930 pm when he’s all done.  Sometimes, he even goes for late night runs. If anyone has reason to make excuses, it’s him.  Nope, not Jared James Booker Bradbury.  Instead of seeing him for the helpful, compassionate, unselfish man he is, I ungratefully throw my clothes in a hamper and practically heave it in his arms and make him promise to not TOUCH my dirty clothes, that I will be doing it when we get there.  I’m such a self-destructive little bitch sometimes.  Knowing he wins, he asks me sweetly to put down all my bags, which I do immediately, defeated…and carries each one out to his car.  Yea, if he doesn’t scream “I’M A KEEPER” than I give up.

We made up in 7 minutes.  I cried and apologized for being an impatient brat; he chuckled, told me I’m beautiful, kissed my hand and apologized for causing stress at all to my life.

And I have NO idea what he sees in me.