Weekend Recap

Let's see... So the weekend...  Do you ever have those weekends when you know you did some stuff, but for a million dollars you couldn't say what?  That's the kind of weekend I had.  I know I ate a delicious enchilada, but that's about all.

Here's something, though.  I hang around this house all week doing stuff.  Admittedly not as much as I should be doing, if the pink mildew in the shower tiles in any indication, but I do stuff.  On Fridays, I try to make sure the basics are done; laundry, shopping, picking up, so we don't have to spend any time on the weekends doing these things.  I sometimes fail at this, but sometimes I don't.  On the weekends, I want to have a weekend, where I lay around, or we do stuff as a family.  I want a break from my normal routine.  On Sunday, Rob got a wild hair up his ass about how he wanted to "get stuff done" and I was supposed to hop to and participate.  I finally had to say, If you are feeling like getting stuff done, you go right ahead, but I feel like lounging around and having a weekend.  I'm glad he's motivated to get things done, but I couldn't tell you what he got done.  I know he was scurrying around here, but heck if I know what he was doing.  I have a whole list of stuff I want him to do, and I know he didn't do any of those things.  I cleaned out the coat closet and cleaned out all the magazines from under the coffee table.  Mission accomplished. Nap time.

And another thing!  Whilst cleaning out the coat closet, I found two coats in good condition to donate to the coat drive this winter, so I went to get a paper bag from under the kitchen sink and.... there weren't any.  I had at least three good shopping bags under there, with handles, and they're gone because Rob decided to throw them out.  So the coats I washed in preparation for donation are on the floor.  Why does he mess with my workplace in this way???  I gave him the whole, I don't come to your office and decided what goes and what stays! speech, and he countered with But this is my home! and that may be true, but DON'T TOUCH MY BAGS!  He can have full dominion over the coffee, and the garbage, and the recycling, and I'll even let him be in charge of the shower tiles, but don't touch my stuff!  This is like when I went searching high and low for the garlic press only to find out that he had thrown it out.  Who throws out a garlic press? We have an espresso machine that has made exactly 5 lattés in the last 14 years, but, by all means, throw out the garlic press.

I love a good rant on a Monday!