I have to wait until August 18 to register the kids for school, but I’ve decided to take the plunge and send them. Honestly? I think they’re gonna be fine.
I’ve worked out a brilliant way [if I do say so myself! 😉 ] to get some help doing the housework [which I hate, have I mentioned that?] I’ve worked out a deal with my friend Lindsay where I watch her little boy in exchange for her cleaning my house.
Lindsay actually likes cleaning other people’s houses, so this is a good exchange, yes? And she’s as anal about doing a good job as I am [I never start because if I can’t do it perfectly, and finish the whole thing, I lose my mind… Lindsay’s the same way, but when we’re together, I’m able to take time out to take care of the kids and she can continue working, which means that it’s lots more efficient, less time-consuming, and more fun because I have a compatible house-cleaning partner].
Steve and I used to work really well together before we got married. What the hell is that about? We used to have a system where we’d work in a complimentary fashion until all the work was done, then something weird happened, and we stopped getting along so well, and we started getting on each other’s nerves.
Makes me wonder if I have a passive-aggressive streak, because as I’m sitting here thinking about it, I think part of my motivation for not wanting to help him anymore is because I’m frustrated with him in some area of our lives and it’s a sick form of revenge.
How fucked up is that? Jeez, I’m just not a very nice person, am I? I don’t think it’s been a completely conscious thing, more a thing where I’m annoyed or frustrated and I don’t want to be around him, or listening to his ‘ideas’ about how I should conduct whatever task we’re doing.
I also have this thing where when I’m trying to talk, I’ll accidentally speak in half thoughts or forget what things are called [an example, you know those spotlight things that go around in circles that businesses sometimes use to draw attention to themselves when it’s dark? We saw one of those one night, and the only word I could think of to call it was spigot… Everyone laughed, including me, but I honestly couldn’t think of the word ‘spotlight’ to save my life. I think it’s interesting that spigot and spotlight have many similarities in what letters they contain and the sounds involved…]
So anyway, whatever that’s called, I have it bad. [I’m thinking dysphagia, but I could be wrong… and if I’m right? Why the hell can I come up with complicated medical terms but not simple ones like cookie sheet, or cabinet?]
Sometimes it’s worse than others, but Steve gets irritated with me when I can’t express myself in the proper terms, and I get frustrated with him because he absolutely refuses to try to think like I do so that he can understand me [I’m convinced he could if he wanted to… probably not true, but there you go].
Another thing that’s weird, is I generally write better than I can speak, so it’s just getting the words to my freaking mouth that’s usually the problem. I dunno, it’s weird to be me sometimes.
It’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older, so maybe it has to do with having kids and only being half involved in any conversation going on because the other half is involved in watching the kids. Let’s hope so, that way maybe there’s hope that it will get better…
Anyway, I’ve got some stuff to do, so I better go now. Peace out, y’all.