Monster House

Hubby called yesterday to see if I was behaving myself. Well, as we all know…I am never one to behave myself…especially when I don’t get my afternoon nap in on my furlough day. 

Hubby: So, what have you been up to?

Me: Scaring small children in the neighborhood.

Hubby: How?

Me: Well, this little boy came to our door and wanted me to go look for his ball that he threw into our yard. I went out and looked for it, but couldn’t find it. It was annoying, it was like he wanted me to fetch his ball and I wasn’t all about that. So, I told him he could come in and go into the backyard and look for it if he wanted it that bad. I mean, he shouldn’t have thrown it into our yard in the first place. Only he got really scared and said “I don’t think my Mom would let me go into a stranger’s house.” So, I said sorry—I can’t find it….and shut the door and locked it.

(Note: Now before you all get mad at me, you need to realize our backyard is filled with weeds that come up to my knees AND giant landmines….not people friendly….so while I did take a quick glance around….I wasn’t about hacking through our weed jungle to find the missing ball. AND the kids are constantly throwing stuff into our backyard….so forgive me for my lack of patience.)

Hubby: Awww poor little boy! You are so mean. He probably now associates you as the MEAN OLD LADY in the neighborhood. Way to start a reputation.

Not Sorry!

Dear Mr Crabby Pants (AKA Hubby),

I am not saying  sorry. You are being a crabby, old grouch today. I have nothing to apologize for. YOU are the one that is being short tempered and PMSY. Not me. (I am not even on the rag. Anymore.) Until you can behave yourself and be nice, I will just stay out of your way. Maybe you should take a nap or sit in the corner by yourself til you can be nice! So, eat my shorts.

P.S. Despite your ill mannered behavior, I am still more than happy to get rid of you drive you to the airport.

Signed,

Your loving, cutest, and nicest wife you will EVER have who IS NOT saying sorry.

Traffic Madness Syndrome (TMS)

So, this morning I had to get up to drive to a different office. I dread going to this office because it is FAR. But, I had Britney going and I thought it wouldn’t be so bad, I even left the house 10 minutes earlier than I needed to. There I am driving along, and singing to Britney when I encounter it. 

THE.WORST.TRAFFIC.EVER.

And no, I am not exaggerating. I tried pinching myself, hoping I was in some kind of disasterous-traffic-induced nightmare. But, I was definately awake. The on-ramp to the highway I usually get on is closed. Thus explaining the huge disaster on the off ramp and side streets. I am stuck. There is no where else to go, except sit in the maddening traffic. Everyone is pissed, driving terribly, and honking on their horns. It was horrible. And that is when I started sweating.

There was no way to avoid it. I was getting TMS (traffic madness syndrome). Before I knew it, I had all the symptoms:

*shouting expletives

*full force anger

*tired, achey muscles from stamping on the breaks

*crabbiness

*lack ot control

*middle finger uncontrollableness

So, instead of taking me maybe 45 minutes to an hour to get here…it took me one hour and 25 minutes exactly!   At least it is Friday! I am scared to think how long it will take me to get home tonight. I have a feeling it is going to be a LOOOOONNNNNGGGGG day.

Stupid Traffic.

I definately have a case of full on TMS. I wonder if they make something for this? You know, some pill or something?  If so, I NEED it. Actually, I know just the thing that will help get me through the day…..

Lunch at Jersey Mike’s! I am starting to feel better already!

Oscar the Grouch

It’s just been one of those weeks. Filled with stress and lack of sleep and now it has compounded where any little thing feels like it will set me off.

Like what? Well, let me start the list:

1. There is never anything “good” for dinner. We have no food and are poor. I hate grocery shopping and yea, sure Hubby tries to “find” stuff to make out of nothing in our fridge, but I am just tired of eating the same old frozen pizza dinners. So then Hubby gets mad at me because I don’t like anything he suggests. JERK.

2. My middle sister asks me if I am PMSing since I am being a “a jerk.” Whatever, maybe I am, but I don’t feel overtaken by the crazy, chocolate monsters yet…so maybe I am not. JERK

3. I decide to go to bed early, in the hopes that IF i get enough sleep I will wake up happier, excited to go to work (yea, right) and get more done. But, instead I am awoken in hour by the youngest sister who decides to have a loud silverware dropping food session in the kitchen at midnight. AWESOME. It not only sounds like World War III in the kitchen, but now all the pets are up whining and bothering me too. Guess I AM not sleeping tonight. JERK

4. Boston, my favorite cat, will not stop sneezing. And he will not stop sneezing in my face at night, so his sneezes get all over me. I think he has allergies. But, Hubby doesn’t want to take him to the vet because we just spent a small fortune on Americus there. But he is my baby, and if he gets sick I get freaked out. SAD

5. It is ONLY Thursday and this week is not over yet. It is the longest week EVER and I still have to go to a 3 hour meeting on Friday afternoon (when my I-care-level is at 0 and I had a 4.5 hour meeting this past Monday. What is it with meetings? DUMB

6. I just want to know what we are doing….i.e. jobs, living situations, and real life. I am tired of being stuck in limbo-land. P.S. I have the patience the size of a small paper clip. DUMB

7. I planned on drinking last night, to make me nicer, however I found out we have close to no booze…ok, we just don’t have what I want. Which is a whole bottle of red wine (to myself) or crown with coke (the best thing to drink when you have to shovel snow—not that we are experiencing any snow, but it is the shoveler’s drink of choice). DUMB

8. I forgot to make my lunch last night and I am out of Ramen at work. DUMB

 I think I need a vacation OR a really, really stiff drink.

The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning

I am having the WORST morning that ever existed. Truly. Also part of last night. Let’s start from the top.

Strike 1

Upon arriving home last night from drinking, I was too tired to eat what the Hostage had prepared (I had already eaten, anyways, but that doesn’t matter). I immediately decided I would go to bed SINCE I had been at work for 12. 5 hours (doesn’t matter if I didn’t work the whole time) AND had been up since 3:30 (ungodly). So, there I am, starting to count sheep drifting off to lullaby land when our house phone starts ringing, jolting me out of my bliss. NOT.PRETTY.

It was Hubby, but for some reason the phones weren’t working or something (I have no idea) so he literally called the house about 5 times, everytime, I was nearly asleep. I.wanted.to.kill.him.

Strike 2

I wake up from nightmares at 1am. Not going into detail here because my sister will try and analyze them and they were just NOT.PRETTY. Don’t know why this happened, they were more like comedic, twisted nightmares—all the detail I care to share right now as they still scare me. Really hard to fall back asleep.

Strike 3

!&###! The alarm clock goes of at 3:30AM because I forgot to turn it off yesterday, thus again waking my peaceful sleep. !&###! Not Pretty.

Strike 4

I can’t find Americus, the evil alarm clock cat. Did I see her this morning when I fed her? I can’t even remember. I fed the pets, that part I remember, but that is about it. Feedings in the morning are done in a zombie-like daze. Panic sets in. Did I leave her outside (they get supervised outside time)? Did I shut her in somewhere (I have a tendency to shut her in closets…not on purpose)? Is she in with Rae?

I then spend 27 minutes looking for her, making me late for my workout routine. Still can’t find her. Need to leave. UGH.

Strike 5

The Hostage and Rae have made dishes (from last night) as high as the sky AND left their messes everywhere. This throws me into a crazy, psycho clean freak mode. I can’t deal with messes. All I am saying is, make as many messes as you want, but clean them up, please. I am sure they will clean it up today, but that made the bad witch come out this morning.

Strike 6

I didn’t get to take a shower, so I stink. I was too lazy to take one last night and I assumed I would take one at work, but now I just don’t care. But, my feet are black. Gross.

Strike 7 

The stupid hair straightner that I was going to attempt to use, IF I had taken a shower this morning (cleanliness is overrated), is broken. I thought it was just the outlets, but after plugging it into like 10 outlets around the house, I determined it is broken. Yea, I AM that slow in the mornings.

Strike 8

I am forfeitting my morning workout (gasp) in order to write this blog and because I was late getting to work AND because I fear with the way this morning is going, I will probably just end up breaking something…which might not be a bad thing? This is the first day I have missed in 2 weeks. I feel guilty.

Strike 9

I banged my knee hard on my desk this morning. Please don’t ask me how, I am known for my klutziness. I think my desk bit me, actually.

Strike 10

Hasn’t happened yet, but if it does….I am packing everything up and going home.

Morning NOISE

Lately, Hubby has been getting up really, really, really early to go to work. And we have already established that I AM NOT a morning person…so to be disturbed in my sleep is like waking up a bear from his hibernation. NOT.PRETTY. Of course, Hubby doesn’t think he is being that loud, but to me…sounds like FIREWORKS and MARCHING BANDS are going off in the morning as he slams around in the bathroom, taps his toothbrush, and shuffles about our room. Basically, I am about ready to KILL him. Again, I am just not rational in the morning.

So, sometimes we talk about this at night. I guess, I am hoping maybe he will be quieter or maybe he will realize how annoying he is in the WEE HOURS OF THE A.M. Although I am convinced he makes the morning bangs on PURPOSE because he doesn’t want me to sleep in any longer than he does, but he denies this. LIAR!

Me: In the morning, in my semi-state of consciousness, I dream that I am killing you with each bang you make. You know, like stabbing you like this….(violent stabbing motions are being made)

Hubby (rolling his eyes): I am SO quiet in the morning!

Me: ARE NOT!

Hubby: Waaaaaaaay quieter than you are.

Me: Probably true, but you are still not THAT quiet.

Hubby: I even lay out my clothes the night before, so I don’t make the drawers creek!

Me: You still bang around on purpose to wake me up!

Hubby: And you don’t EVER make noise!

Me: That’s right. That is because I am perfect! J