"Why me?" That's a question I ask myself frequently. Like this morning for instance. Why do I have to get involved in pouring concrete. I know nothing about it, want to know nothing about it, and would like for once to be left out of the whole scenario. If someone cooks dinner, why don't they clean the stove? If they wash the car, vacuum it too. I finish the job.
Year's ago, I had a husband who did laundry, and once in a while he even folded the clothes. Now this may seem like I'm being bitchy, but he left them laying wherever they were until I put them away. If I have to be involved in the process, then I'm not free of it. I want someone to do the WHOLE job, like I do. People in this household just don't have that mentality for some reason. Of course we are four adults and a child trying to co-exist together, and that has a whole realm of problems. Two women? You can't have two queens running a country!
My writing time keeps growing shorter and shorter with 'involvement' in issues around the house. This morning, early, I thought I'd sneak to the computer and try to finish a chapter I've worked on for weeks. My hubby and son were expecting cement this morning to pour a slab for our RV. Who knew companies delivered at the crack of dawn on Saturday? Suddenly hubby pokes his head in the back door, cheeks puffed, eyes bulging. "Call the damn cement company. They shorted us." At least that's what I made out between all the curse words I didn't include here.
So, I run after him, pj-clad, boobs swinging in the breeze cause I have on no bra, I'm sporting serious bed-head and morning breath, and I'm trying to clarify exactly what I'm expected to do. SURPRISE! There's a whole bunch of men standing ankle deep in cement, gaping at my awesome beauty. *lol*
My job was to call and explain the situation, insist they deliver another yard (how much is that?) of cement and rake them over the coals for their screw-up. Now, I'm a team player, but all I can say, is thank goodness for mobile phones. I gave him his and the phone number and high-tailed it back inside. I haven't heard a word, but I did just hear another truck pull up. Am I working on my chapter? Nooooo. I'm blogging to vent because once again, my time is their time. I think I'll try again tonight after everyone has gone to bed.
Dishin' It Out: Weblog of Connie Vines, who resides deep within the suburbs of SoCal.
*lol* That's all so familiar!! Especially about needing people to "follow through" with what they start!! I spent the first 2 hours of today collecting up the dirty laundry by following its treasure trail through the house, clearing a basin of putrid cold water from last night's washing up and rescuing *yesterday's* clean washing from the line where it'd been left out overnight!
ReplyDeleteSeriously, the writing takes last place on the list, right? Something about feeling guilty for taking 'me' time, about feeling guilty for working on something that I love, rather than chores. But how on earth I'm meant to put myself into a fantasy world and know how my characters 'speak' when I have phone calls trying to sell me double glazing, my son yelling at whoever's hidden his jazz shoes (which, of course, no-one has), and my hubby playing Cream's greatest hits at top volume, I don't know.
Thanks for an entertaining and empathetic blog post!! Clare :)