DeadpanAnn (old blogger version)

Sometimes when I start working on some household chore, I get carried away and end up doing something I didn't set out to do. Like tear down wallpaper, or sweep (and bleach) the entire carport and driveway. I just completed the latter, and worked up quite a sweat. I only meant to sweep out the laundry room. But the carport I swept the stuff out onto was so dirty that I knew the junk would get tracked back in. Next thing I knew, I was sweeping the entire thing. And bleaching it, and rinsing it off.

That must be how meth-heads feel when they get high and take things apart, or clean for hours. Except I'm not a meth head, and the urge to clean only lasts about two hours with me, then I'm back to my lazy ways.

A few days ago, I started wiping down the kitchen counters, and ended up hanging a 61" window blind on the window above the sink. TH left the window uncovered for years, which was okay because it just looks into the kitchen. The neighbors across the street could see in, and when I moved in I bought some fabric at Wal Mart and made a crappy curtain for it. Why didn't I just buy the blinds then? Because TH was convinced that the right size did not exist. (He always thinks that the little obstacles we encounter--whether it be a leaky faucet, or a funny sized window-- are one of a kind, insurmountable walls of disappointment that we should just learn to live with when they're really just little annoyances that everyone has to deal with, and there's a warehouse of solutions somewhere that we just have to hunt down, ie the housewares section at Wal Mart.)

Forgive the digression. It's a miracle they're actually hung and not leaning against the wall. It's also a miracle that I didn't tear anything up in the process, like the day I tried to hang blinds in the laundry room. Painful memories. Too bad I deleted my old blog, or else I'd link to the post about that.

I have job interviews every day for the rest of this week. That also means I'm released from my church obligation.

My appointment with the colon doctor had to be moved up to tomorrow, because next week I am going to be HERE---



I'm looking forward to the beach, but moving the appointment up means that I will be weighed before my full month is up, which means I probably haven't reached my goal. The last two days have not been very good for my weight loss efforts, because we had a big meal at my sister-in-law's house, and I suspended the rules for that one meal. I ate chicken spaghetti and cake. Then last night, I made spaghetti for us. I had the stuff for it, and I was too tired to go shopping for anything else. As long as I've lost some weight, I'll be happy.

This will be the first time TH has come on a family vacation, even though he has been invited every year since we've been together. He's "not a beach person," as he tells me every two hours despite the fact that the only beach he's ever seen is the one in Biloxi, which doesn't really count. The barrier islands prevent waves, which makes the water less ocean-like, and the beach less beach-like. There's sand, and there's salt water, but it's not really a beach. You have to take a ferry out to the other side of the islands to get to a real beach. I'm not sure which he's dreading more-- being forced to give the beach a try, or being with my family for three days.

We can't stay the full week. The kids will be here Saturday, we'll go down to Florida on Monday morning, and we'll come back Thursday, I think. Maybe it's Wednesday. I'm not sure. The plans to spend our anniversary in a secluded cabin near a river have been washed away by the rising tide of TH's work obligations. Some bitcha$$ jerkoff coworker of his has requested every holiday and every other day he wants off for the next six years, and the spineless manager is letting that fly. The guy happens to want off on our anniversary, and since he claimed it in 1978, TH can't have it. In fact, he can't have any extra days that entire week. So our only trip this year will be to spend 3 days in a condo with my parents, sister, brother in law, and their offspring, sleeping ten feet away from the children, next door to my parents, and, most importantly, not having sex.

Bravo.

Oh well. I guess if you have to not have sex somewhere, that's the place. I love the beach.