Here's something mean but ridiculous that Dan used to do to me. I'm amazed at the level of immaturity this conveys.

Let me preface, for effect.

I cannot function properly without my coffee in the morning. I will enact whatever means necessary to have coffee. If I realize the night before, even just before bed that there is no coffee, I will go get some, to ensure having it in the morning. (Rest assured, this never happens, I always make sure I have coffee.) It doesn't matter if I am rushing around late like a chicken with it's head cut off, I will be just a little bit later so I can make coffee.

If for some reason Dan and I got into an argument before he left for work, he would take the coffee, so I couldn't have any. Not "take all the coffee in the pot". ALL the coffee. The can of coffee. All the cans of coffee. He knew that this would start my day off in the shittiest way possible. He also used to take the morning paper, as that was another thing I enjoyed in the morning. After we got the computer he would take the mouse.

He also used to like to destroy things that were important to me. Completely worthless sentimental things that he knew would crush me. I'm a very sentimental person, and Isave things that remind me of special people and times. I have a house daniel made for me out of popsicle sticks and electrical tape when he was 5. I have the restaurant receipt from the first time Mark and I went out. I have the pool chalk from the first game of pool we ever played together. I have a bowling trophy of my dads. I have a shirt of my grandma's wrapped tightly in a plastic bag, so when I open it I can still smell her. I keep all these silly things in a hope chest I got for graduation. So back when I was about 18 or so, my mom was going through her dresser drawers and was going to throw away an old pair of cat-eye prescription glasses she had worn years before. I remembered her wearing them when I was 4 or 5 years old, so I took them off her and put them in my hope chest. One of Dan's favorite tricks was to go to my hope chest and grab something out of it and break it, right in front of me. One day he crunched those glasses up like they were tin foil. To this day that pisses me off. I managed to glue them back together somewhat and I still have them but damn..that was one of the meanest things he ever did to me. I'm a very non-materialistic person and instead covet these trinkets of memories, so that's what he went for. Everytime.

I do smile though, about the $300 Ficus plant that he loved. He doted on this damn plant for minutes a day. Washed the leaves. Tested the soil. Watered it "just so". One day when he had done something mean to me and then left, I gave that tree a nice big drink of Mr Clean. Hee. To this day he is convinced he overwatered it. And yes, I know I was lowering myself to his level by doing this...but it sure felt good for a while.