so, i was just a weeeee bit late with the car insurance. hours, really, i was trying to stretch it to the last minute and forgot about eastern standard time. but i paid it! like three hours late. and i'm supposed to be insured again by now, dammit, it's been a day. but no. and so i'm stuck working from home. on his day off. and he's cleaning. pointedly cleaning. in a very spazzy manner. there are little grunting sounds and heavy breathing involved, much of which seems to be exasperated sighs, to accompany his occasional pointed glances my way. he's cleaning at me.
if i believed in hell, i would no longer fear it.
Thanks for the reminder, Jessica: 108 here today; Ben and Jerry's on the way home to enjoy a bit later...
Honey, just enjoy it.. who cares what kind of attitude he has.. at least you don't ave to clean... And now to sit in front of the fan and sweat my titties off..
dare i mention it's cool and foggy here? and i'm considering putting on some socks, 'cause my toesies are cold?
i can't think of anything remotely intelligent to say (yet. i'm only on the first fosters), but just thought i'd come by and say i'm really becoming fond of the word 'asshat'.
it's one of those excellent words, isn't it?
poor guy. sounds like he's in desperate need of a high colonic followed by a long and loving strap-on session.
you should have ordered him to clean wearing nothing but an apron. that's a good attitude adjuster.
i must be a mutant because i grew up in a household where mom didn't do a goddamned thing around the house -- she was an intellectual, dammit, and intellectuals dont' clean! -- and my dad did all the straightening out. i cannot say he was gracious about it. going to the laundromat was a nightmare, a truly traumatic childhood experience, with him bursting with resentment towards mom, and yelling at us for not folding the sheets correctly.
good times, good times.
OK, I am so totally guessing with the Francaise right there. Last night, I pulled the fans from the windows as they will not lock with them in, and it was still 83�F in here, and the poor husband tossed and turned at me. At me! I am the one who tosses and turns at him, with my "do not breathe upon me, for I am insomniac." But you are so wise to stay in. You know those wiley little synchronous fates are just looking for chances to manifest themselves. Give them something better to do, like send someone over with an extra pint of Ben & Jerry's frozen yogurt. Cherry Garcia. Mmm...
Hey, obviously the guy needs to be sent where there's REAL cleaning to be done. Send him here. I have loads of bugs and dust and all. Someone would have to wade through a lot of hooha to be able to clean at me! Heh.
** the nun takes out his really big ruler and applies it appropriately across liz's knuckles for rubbing in her cool little life**
Since I am 8 hours away it is going to have to be a really big ruler