I got to thinking about all the things I was determined to do on my time off, all the ways I was dedicated to being the new, improved Mr Lady this coming year, and how already, 12 hours into it, I've managed to fuck it all up.
I'd decided to get back on my little diet that I so thoroughly trampled upon over the past two weeks, and so naturally I started the morning of January 1st bent over the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bowl of Cheese Whiz in front of me and a fistful of Saltines in the other hand. Apparently, it only takes me .056 seconds to catch sympathy pregnancy.
I thought it would be a good idea to get my kids eating more diverse, nutritionally balanced foods including more than Frosted Flakes and apples with peanut butter, and after two weeks of cooking seriously divine food 24/7, they started their New Year by requesting Ramen noodles and english muffins with jam for breakfast. And I obliged. Because I suck.
I was determined to not be 80 years old, and to stay up in New Years Eve until my husband got home from his 14 hour day at work to bring in the New Year with a bang in the interest of being a better, more trampy aggressive wife this year. And I actually made it until the 1:45 in the morning he came rolling in, and I indeed got my New Years bang. Of my head. On my pillow. What? Snoring, drooling chicks are dead sexy.
I wanted to take my time off honing some of my other skills, to rediscover Shannon's interest and not just Mr Lady's, and after two long, glorious, deadline free weeks of doing whatever the hell I wanted to, I still can't figure out how to get the stupid ball to turn around in BiiBallLite. And it's making me fucking insane.
I bought a book to read, because when I'm not staring at a laptop all day, I suddenly have the urge to read literature. I bought the new book by one of my favorite authors, sat down on the couch, curled up with a blanket, and dreamed of days squandered on the couch basking in words on pages. And then I devoured that sucker in less than 24 hours. I hear they make a cream for that.
And, of course, I totally cleaned my house while I was gone. That was kind of the whole point of the hiatus. By yesterday morning, you could eat off of all the floors. You could see your reflection in the walls. And of nothing else, I was determined to keep this up. There was never laundry in the baskets in the morning, the dishes were clean and the sink was empty every morning, and I can't tell you how happy I've been about the whole thing. And then one day, ONE DAY we have plans to go somewhere, and of course I run 30 mintues late, and right now there are grapes smashed into the kitchen floor, I'm a day behind on laundry (which, shut up, there's 5 of us and one of us is at the tail end of 'wiping her own ass' training' and there are 13 things on top of my coffee table that have no business not being in the trash, on someone's foot, in a coat pocket, tool box, or kitchen sink. Which is full. And starting to smell funny.
And here I sit, writing on my blog.
Thank god I didn't bother trying to quit smoking.