I'm Pissed

I tend not to like to use the term "douche" or "douchebag" to describe anybody, because I think the word is, generally, well......douche-y. But I'm doing it this time. And I apologize in advance for what I feel will be an inappropriate use of All Caps Lock sentences.

My brother-in-law is a douchebag.

Edgar and I confirmed yesterday afternoon that we will indeed be able to move into our apartment this weekend. All of my initial fears about logistics were generally assuaged. When I called DirecTV they were were able to move our installation date to this coming Sunday. Our phone line will be working by then; the internet will take a few extra days but I always have access at work so that's no big deal. I was able to get our service started with Edison, and when The Hubby called UHaul last night they told him that he would be able to change the reservation to this Saturday as opposed to the 12th.

I started to get worried when it came to getting people to help us move. Two of Edgar's friends that were going to help us next weekend are going to be out of town this weekend. We thought that it sucked, but hey, what could we expect on short notice? It would be fine with me, Edgar, and his brother.

Or so we thought.

My brother-in-law responded to my husband's message to him that we would be moving this weekend instead of next weekend by saying that he would NOT be helping us.

Let me repeat that.

My brother-in-law is NOT going to help us move.

What kind of jackass loser doesn't help his brother move when he's in town, not sick or injured, and doesn't have any plans?! He says he's too tired from helping their parents move this past weekend. Well guess what, buddy? I'M TIRED TOO. But I'm not complaining (except about him).

It's not like this move is going to be as taxing to the body as his parents' move was. All of our things are in storage. Initially, it's a matter of loading everything from the storage unit into the truck. No stairs. No trying to finagle akward shaped furtniture through doors. None of our furniture is even heavy like their parents' stuff is. That could be finished in under an hour. Then it's a brief stop at where we're living now to load our bed, nightstand, and some boxes into the truck, then off to Long Beach. Once we're there, it's not going to be much harder to move the stuff in. We'll be on the 3rd floor, yes, but there are two elevators. You don't even have to navigate the furniture up the stairs. Edgar is borrowing big dollies from his work, so even the lifting and carrying of furniture can be reduced to just putting it on a dolly. Even inside, it's not like I'm asking him to arrange the furniture and unpack for us. Edgar and I will gladly do that on our own. It's an easy job that should be done in less than four hours if you don't count the commute time. Four hours of a THREE DAY WEEKEND. FROM A MAN BOASTING LAST WEEK THAT HE HAS OVER 120 HOURS OF VACATION TIME ACCRUED AT WORK.

Ugh.

Grow up. Stop being a little girl. Man up, princess.

I don't know how far I can push my husband about this either. He's mad at his brother too, but his tolerance for hearing people talk shit about him is lower than most, since they're twins. Oh, wait, nevermind....HOW DO YOU NOT HELP YOUR TWIN BROTHER MOVE?!