White-hot fury
It's probably a good thing that I didn't post this on Sunday, because that title expresses how I felt. Before I went to church, Kent said that he was nearly out of cigarettes and that he would have to start using the Commit lozenges. He said it matter-of-factly, and I believed him. I had planned to ask Mom to borrow money, but wanted to wait until the next day so she could check her account and make sure how much money she had. But that wasn't good enough for him. When the girls and I got home, he started complaining about not having cigarettes and stomped off toward the bedroom with the cordless phone (he was on a phone call - probably with an Internet girlfriend). I tried explaining about waiting til Monday morning, but he acted like I was stupid for even thinking that. I exploded. I threw the computer chair on the floor, screamed obscenities at him and slammed the bathroom door. I was going to drive right back to town and ask Mom for money for his stinkin' cigarette...