Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Is this immature? Well, I don't care!

My husband has a cold. He doesn't know it but I do because it's the same ornery cold I had last week that involves a killer headache and over the top- orneriness. I didn't tell him because apparently it's a bad thing if you catch a cold and pass along the virus- after all, one should be able to control these things. If I hear, one more time in my life, "I've caught YOUR cold" in an accusatory tone- well, it will just be one time, too many. If nothing else, my husband has mastered the fine art of blame, passed on from generations of polish people before him.

So I didn't tell him that he may be just a little extra ornery for the next five days. That he should take a tylenol and shut himself away in a room away from innocent bystanders. Nope. Didn't tell him. So I suppose this really is my fault? Probably. Don't care.

After he decided to insult me in five different ways within the first hour of our joyous daily reunion, I removed myself from his presence. He made dinner. I ignored him. I ate peanut butter and jelly and wrapped up his feast and put it in his sandwich box, in the fridge. He went to bed and I settled in to my time alone.

But I was unsatisfied. He really pisses me off. That's all I can say. Life is crappy. I am not happy at work. My kids turn me into a screaming ninny. I have no money. I have to stay up late into the night to cultivate my inner artist so that I don't feel the need to jump off the top of my house. So I really just don't need this person giving me crap, ya know? And, I am not a doormat- I will not accept bad behaviour as routine.

So to air my dis-pleasure I decided to fill his lunch box with rolls of toilet paper. Yes, I am 40 years old. Yes, it has come to this.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

hang in there!

Hey!
I have been way too busy communing with my inner artist to notice all the wackiness the world has to offer lately. Ok, that's a lie, but I have been too busy to write it down. And, then there is the issue with my computer at home. The modem in my computer claims to be in use by another device. What device??? The blender? I don't know and used up all the minutes on my cell phone speaking with "kevin" trying to fix it at 1.95 a minute. Was it rude of me to tell him to quit with the social niceties and get down to business? He's asking how I am- I'm answering that I'm fine and so is my little dog and the meter is clicking away... shut up, Habib and fix my computer! But we ran out of time so here I sit at work typing away. And, with a memory like mine, well let's just say if it doesn't get written down while the thought is rolling around in my head- picture a funnel attached to the end of a slide- the thought rolls right out my ear, or nostril or tear duct, never to be evidenced again. So sorry. Which is probably why I enclosed all those pictures of the paper mache art I'm doing. Couldn't be that I am just so excited that they are turning out so well!!! Ok, have to go work, will edit for spelling later. After I figure out how to type on the blender.