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holding the bag
July 18, 2016.
I am tired beyond description. Due to Spouse completely ducking his responsibilities, I spent
several hours every night after work, all of Friday afternoon and evening, plus a good chunk
of Saturday morning, getting the house cleaned and ready for company. On top of that, he
took a sudden notion to put anti-flocculant into the pool last weekend, resulting in tons of
crap on the bottom that required hours of vacuuming.
The problem is, he is kind of a pig.
And over the years, I learned that cleaning up after him just allowed him to continue being a
pig, without any consequences. So, in large part, I stopped doing it. I figure that if he is going
to make filth, he is going to have to live in filth. Well--to a degree. I have to live there, too, so
I do clean up after him sometimes. And he has become a so-so cleaner of the common areas.
The filth is mainly in his bedroom.
But you can always tell when he's fed up with the dirt, but determined not to have to clean it
up himself.
He invites company.
You see, he knows that having guests coming will force my hand, and I will clean things up
out of sheer embarassment, so friends and family aren't faced the results of his slovenliness.
But all that? That is only part of the reason I'm so tired. The other part is...I have no place to
sleep. He gave away my bedroom, on the understanding that I would sleep with him in his
bed. The first night, I lasted 90 minutes before he woke me up whining that he couldn't sleep
with my snoring. I ended up sleeping in the living room. Which wouldn't be so bad, IF WE
OWNED A DAMNED COUCH. Two nights of "sleeping" twisted up on a loveseat have left
me looking like a pretzel, and feeling like shit.
So the kid got in at noon on Saturday, and we took him to the house, showed him around,
and then took him grocery shopping. Got him all the crappy junk food his mom doesn't
allow, too. And after we got all that put away, we went to dinner at DeRango's, and stopped at
Culvers for an ice cream on the way back. It perked me up a bit, because I never got anything
to eat all day until dinner.
He's a geek and a night owl, so he retired to the bedroom and geeked out, and I was so
exhausted I was hopeful of an early night and some good rest. And that's when he kicked me
out of the bedroom.
Yesterday, we took it kind of easy. The weather was cool, gray and rainy in the morning,
followed by sunny, hot and humid in the afternoon. Spouse and I made bacon and pancakes
for breakfast, and then Spouse ran out for his haircut while I washed Spouse's dress shirts for
work, cleaned up the kitchen, and the boy cleaned up himself. I'd gotten cleaned up and
dressed before breakfast, so once everyone was up and around, we went to Racine to get him
a raspberry kringle from O&H, and came home by way of Mars Cheese Castle so he could get
some cheese curds. These are two things he was told he must try if he came to this area (by
whom, he did not say. Possibly my dad.)
For some reason, Spouse decided to take the Chevy, so I got to sit in the back seat and roast like a chicken on a spit in that solar oven.
After we got back, the boy went out back for a swim, Spouse took a nap, and I just vegged out with my phone and laptop.
Spouse made a simple-yet tasty dinner of grilled steak, baked potatoes, and steamed green beans for dinner, and I did the dishes, and sat down to rifle through some vintage ad scans and put some stuff up on tumblr before setting up for Monday morning.
So I got my blankie and pillow, set my phone up for an alarm, and crashed on the loveseat again, to grab as much rest as I was going to be allowed to have.
Today was...long. I made myself a makeshift dressing station in the basement, so I could run down there after my shower, and not disturb anyone by getting ready for work. It worked out well, all-in-all. I forgot my hairbrush, though. And it's really hard to get my socks on when I can't prop my bad leg up on the bed.
But I got out the door and down to the office as usual. And it was a horrible, hideous, hell of a Monday, also as usual. Followed by having to bundle the kid off to the north side of town to meet his printer tutor at the library and start his crash course of specialized, one-to-one training. I was supposed to be unassociated with that part of the visit, but since Spouse changed jobs in mid-stream, so to speak, of course he is unavailable to take him up there, not getting home from work on time.
Such a fuffle. Meals at all hours, too. If any. I really do not do well with this kind of thing.
After I dropped the kid off at the library, I came home with the plan of taking a nice quiet swim, only to be struck with a violent episode of tummy trouble that abruptly changed that plan. And then a dinner ended up being Culvers takeout.
Reading: "A Prairie Courtship" (1910), by Harold Bindloss. I'm pretty sure I've read this, but I can't remember the end, so it is possible I never finished it. (It's equally possible that my memory is effed up.)
Listening: Jan Arden, "Living Under June", and Mary Chapin Carpenter, "Party Doll and Other Favorites".
Inked Up: Nothing new; Levenger Facets Fine/Blu Mare, Ohto Tasche
Fine/Pelikan 4001 Pink, Jetpens Chibi 2/J. Herbin Orange Indien, Conklin
Duragraph/Pelikan 4001 Brilliant Brown, and Sheaffer Javelin/Scrip Blue-Black
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