No, I wasn’t on vacation. I just got my ass kicked by the last few weeks, which have been leading up to the END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR…this Thursday. Not that I’m dreading it or anything.
Anyway, during my absence, I discovered a few things.
The first is that, judging by the way my family leaves things (or the wrappers) right where they are once they have finished using (or eating) them, there is a strong chance all of them could end up on an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive one day. Of course, this behavior could also result in me appearing on an episode of I (Almost) Got Away With It on another channel, simultaneously. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to this, as I would much rather land my own talk or cooking show or perhaps something in the vein of What Not To Wear. That would be too. much. fun. Honestly.
The second is…I have deep seeded road rage. Not just any road rage though. Mine is specifically triggered by elderly drivers. Yes, I know I am headed straight for Hell in a fast moving vehicle for saying this, but it’s true. Seriously. The laws mandate that you have to take a driving/road test to get a license when you turn 16 in this country, so why not pass a law stating you have to take one every year once you reach, say, 70 years old, in order to keep your license? Seems logical to me, because let’s face it…some people, no matter how sweet they are in their geriatric stage, simply should not be driving. Period. Personally, I plan on turning my license in once I am rich enough to hire a driver, so I will not cause undue stress to those younger than I on the roads I may travel in my old age. My mama always loved Driving Miss Daisy, so I believe she would approve of my decision.
Third thing. I fall into a funk when The Man is between film projects. Unfortunately, the last 8 months have mostly been filled with ‘in-between’ time, resulting in my neglect of writing new posts for y’all to read. Go figure. The funk is not because of the loss of income, but because he morphs into an energy vampire who sucks the life right out of me when he is off work with a pair of idle hands. Bless his bones, I love him more than life itself, but The Man needs hobbies…or friends…or a love of social networking for hours on end…or DIY projects. Or all of the above. Well, maybe not DIY projects. That could be bad. But I digress. On a typical day off, he wakes up, takes a shower, makes any work related calls he needs to, and then proceeds to wreck the flow of things in my routine by hovering over me asking what I’m doing. Mind you, I said ‘hovering’ not helping. Then he alternates between pacing back and forth through the house, sitting on the sofa watching sports, or lounging out by the pool listening to Howard Stern. After this, he usually scavenges around the kitchen, and asks me what there is to eat. Which drives me bat-shit crazy, because inevitably it invokes feelings of guilt in me, and I end up halting whatever activity I am engaged in to make food for him. Once he tires of these activities, he follows me around as I gather laundry, straighten up rooms, make beds, etc….trying to take my clothes off. Oh yes. This really happens. I have even talked about it before. Right here.
There once was a time when I bitched and moaned about being a ‘mixer’s widow’, spending my days with 3 little ones and very little adult interaction, because he was always working, and never home. Let it now be known to the Universe: He has more than compensated for all those years by being up my ass the past one, so take him back…please! Thanks in advance, His wife
Last thing. I miss y’all when I don’t write. So I pledge to try to stay focused, while thwarting advances from The Man and entertaining children who will be out of school for summer break.
Not that I’m dreading it or anything….