In Here, It’s Always Monday.

September 27, 2012

in How to be a Housewife

I’ve had a really hard time keeping track of which day of the week it is lately. Which, I’m sure, is a problem a lot of retirees can relate to. But without a job with definitive hours, lunch breaks, or weekends, it can all get a bit hazy sometimes. I used to use the Big Man’s job as my daily barometer. If he was at work? It was probably a weekday. If he was home? Probably not. Sure, it wasn’t 100% fool proof, but at least if he was around, we could always just check his IPhone to be sure.

But now, well, his hours aren’t exactly what you’d call…stable. If he’s working? It could be a weekday. Or a weekend. Or a leap day. Just depends on what the powers that be scheduled him for this month. And just because he’s working on a Tuesday, doesn’t mean that he won’t be working on Saturday. Or Monday. Or whatever day comes next.

Which, I’ve decided, is part of the reason that this past Tuesday felt like Monday. All. Freakin’. Day.

It didn’t help that I was on day 2 of re-re-restarting my “healthy lifestyle” of no snacking, no eating junk, minimizing the processed food, and banning Krispy Kreme and all things fried from my life.

I wore black. It seemed fitting…

It also didn’t help that both of my toddlers (YES! They are BOTH toddlers now! Dear gawd, help us all) decided that 8 straight days of spaghetti was 7 days too many. And they weren’t going to eat another single solitary bite. No matter how much freshly grated parmesan/asiago/romano blended cheese I put on top of it.

Which meant they were, by default, both on a hunger strike. Which didn’t bring about as much solidarity as you might think. And the Little Miss is about as well-humored on a hunger strike as her Momma is at the start of a new “lifestyle.”

Sadly for the Big Man, this was, indeed, one of his days off.

So we suffered through our grocery run together. As a family. And then we ate lunch together. As a family. Well, the Big Man ate his sandwich, chips, and pre-made sun-dried tomato hummus. I ate my 1/2 of a turkey sandwich. And the Littles wept at the sight of their never-ending bowls of spaghetti.

And then it was naptime. Oh so glorious naptime. The Littles went to their rooms. The Big Man retreated to his office, and I put the dishwasher to work while I curled up with Fifty Shades of Grey¬†The Omnivore’s Dilemma¬†and a nice cup of water.

And then I got up.

Which was my first mistake.

And walked into the kitchen.

Which was my second mistake…


Nsc September 28, 2012 at 9:16 am

You poor thing. At least the kids were sleeping, right? Let me get you a bottle of wine.

Angela Lynn September 27, 2012 at 5:16 pm

Bet that doll came in real handy that day!!!!

Aunt M September 27, 2012 at 8:57 am

Oh goodness, honey, this isn’t even funny. This is terrible. I feel so bad for you. You’ve made me thankful for our 1988 dishwasher that doesn’t leak at all. Please let me know what I can do to help.

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