I probably shouldn't be putting this on my blog, but... I have no diary and no one reads this but for a few.
This weekend I was having one of my 'bad days' and I think my hub-unit was kinda freaking out. It wasn't a total breakdown, but the whole housewife thing sort of got to me.
I mean, what happened was this: while I clean and do laundry and cook all week for the most part, the hub and I set down that at least one day during the weekend we scrub the apartment from top to bottom. Wash the floors, wipe down cabinets, vaccuum everything, scrub the coutertops, dust EVERYTHING, so on and so forth. Like, the SERIOUS cleaning, so that during the week I only have to do maintenence and the house doesn't look like a fucking tornado hit it. Unfortunately, the last month or so I've lost my get-up-and-do-it, and now that the place looks fucking hideous I didn't know where to start. Clutter, everywhere. Dust, on everything. Dishes to the fucking SKY, NO clean clothes, the kitchen floor got some sticky stuff on it that I never got around to wiping up, all kinds of stupid meaningless piffling crap that I should have done during the week but can't seem to get moving on. And I should be able to. I sit at home ALL DAY on my ass and it wouldn't be so mindbreaking to get off the damn couch and start a load of laundry would it? With the hub-unit working twelve hour days I rarely get to see him, and the only quality time we get to spend together is when we're sleeping. However, if I got to bed at 10 every night, I'm up by four or five, so when he gets home at 7 or so I'm awake and can't get back to sleep. It's either keep his schedule or keep mine, and I'm not very successful at either. He gets up at 5 PM, we sit together for maybe a half an hour, then he's off to work..and at this point I have two options. I can stay up until his lunch break at around 10 and lasts two hours so that I can see him and make him some dinner which is what I SHOULD do and then go to bed around two or three. From six PM to whenever I should be cleaning, but I'm so out of it I can't get started and by then it's too late to do laundry or run the dishwasher at midnight. Plus, staying up all night waiting for him to come home affects me when I want to get up during the day and run errands, or get some cleaning done, or see the sunlight for once. I've been trying to stay up for him, stay up all day to get stuff done, and then stay up all night for him to come home for dinner so I can stay up all night waiting for him. I get NO sleep, and it's been fucking with my head.
Now HE says I don't have to stay up for him, but if I don't wait up so I can make him dinner, what the hell have I accomplished all day and most of the night? NOTHING, because I'm so fucking tired I can't do ANYTHING.
Take this morning for instance. I was up at 4 AM because I went to bed at 11PM when the hub went back to work from his chow break. I'm going to sit here and work on my writing and my bog for the allotted four hours I give myself each day, drink some coffee, and try to wake up enough to get some stuff done today. HOWEVER, since the man is going to the gym today he won't be home until 9 or 10 AM, which means that once he gets home he's going to want me to go and lie down with him until he falls asleep. If I do this, one of two things will happen: I'll either fall asleep again because I'm always so freaking tired and won't wake up until he does tonight and get nothing accomplished, or, I'll get up and realize that I can't do anything because he'll wake up if I make too much noise and get nothing accomplished. Then I'll wake him up or get up with him at 5 and them sit on my ass watching TLC and trying to wake up so I can make him his coffee and his snack and get him off to work on time, where I'll remain sitting on my ass trying to wake up until he gets home whenever to have dinner. And if I've stayed awake all day, by the time dinner is done he has to pour me into bed because I've passed out standing up at the sink.
In case you're wondering why I'm bitching about this, I'll explain. Lack of sleep is NOT GOOD for my bipolar disorder, and seriously impedes my attempt at normal living. It increase my agoraphobia so I'm petrified to leave the house, and it depresses the shit out of me because I can't get anything done when all I do is stay at home and I should be able to get EVERYTHING done because I'm home all day, which depresses me further that I'm depressed. It's a cycle. I need a fucking SCHEDULE.
I didn't think being a grownup was going to be so hard.

First, some pop culture from over the weekend:
Ronald Reagan died while I was sleeping sometime this weekend. He was 93, and probably didn't even remember he was ever president. Lucky for him, everyone else did.
JLo got married AGAIN. Some bitches just never learn that you can be madly in love for a very very very long time and you don't have to get married to cement the relationship. If it ain't broke, DON'T FIX IT. Jeeezus.
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban raked in a whoojezus 92.6 million dollars this weekened, at least 13 dollars of it were attributed by me and the hub-unit. Harry Potter rocks.
On to the only-slight criticism...A lot of background information (read drawn out exposition) was dleted from the film in order to fully milk all the special-effects laden shots. A lot of explaining from the book was left out, however in order to fit the ENTIRE tome into 2 and some-odd hours I see that it may have been necessary. I won't go into all the major points because maybe not all of you have seen it yet, so I'll wait until later on in the week.
More to come; I need some TLC.
The channel, you perverts, not the sweet lovin.

Deputy Dangleberry Says:
Tee-hee.
So anyway, the moon is full and heavy tonight, prompting insomnia of the HIGHEST possible caliber. I doubt if I'm ever gonna get to sleep tonight, and I have to run errands in the morning...WAAAAAAA...
Just finished watching the crap-tastic Battlefield Earth, and I gotta hand it to John Travolta. That steaming pile of celluloid poop is by FAR one of the worst movies I've ever seen. It could have been the crappy editing for TV by the Scifi network.... Nah. Doubt it, and highly.
The cats have wound themselves into a fuzzball frenzy due to someone traipsing about in the supposedly-empty downstairs apartment, and now I'm freaked out too. Weird lights out of the windows and some very strange thumps and thudlys going on down there, and the tenants vacated a week ago. At 3 in the morning, there should be ZIP going on.
I hate being home alone at nights.
Currently spinning on the MP3 player: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Just gearing myself up for this weekend's premere. Hopefully I can get tickets before they sell out for Sunday...

It's Monday.
If you knew a damn thing about me you wouldn't be complaining that I haven't posted, because you know nothing happens on a Monday, even Holidays. Ungrateful bastards.

Just kidding! Actually, nothing ever DOES happen on Mondays, which is why I don't post unless it's been a very STRANGE weekend, and I don't have those any more. Til tomorrow---

Another Late Wedding Present
I totally forgot the good(ish) news! Since my parents have sold my childhood home after their VERY nasty divorce (see the Original Rantsville page), the money has finally been divided and my sister and I have come out on top in the fight for our affections. My dad just sent the HUb-unit and I a slightly hefty check for over 6 hundred dollars so that we could buy a ten piece set of all-clad pots and pans. If you have no idea what all-clad is, it's those spanky stainless steel beauties that Emeril uses (and just about everyone else) on the Food Network. These things, if taken care of properly, will last until our children's children are DEAD. Bringing them home yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!), Bruce and I were afraid to take them out of their box, and now they're sitting on the counter because we're afraid to put them away and scratch them. Sometimes having nice things can be a pain... And we have to figure out what to make first with them. I'm thinking have a couple of friends over for some creamy potato soup with black truffle oil followed by souvlaki and homemade tzaziki. Or I could just cook breakfast, but what's the fun in that?
The sun is out and the winds are a-blowin. I'm thinking maybe today's a good day to bake brownies. Mmmmm, brownies...
Must be getting close to that time of month again.
I mean PAYDAY, you goobs!

It's A BABY!!!!!
Last night my family welcomed yet ANOTHER dark-haired carpet monkey. My cousin Michelle had baby Aaron James King into the world at 7 lbs 13 oz, and a whopping 20 1/2 inches. And he's got black hair, of course, because no one else in my fucking family is blond and I'm a freak. Well, I was until I started experimenting with every color in the rainbow. Congrats to cousin Shell on her first baby!
And then a big fat razzberry because only instants after squeezing him out my psycho aunt (shell's mom) gave MY mom that higher-than-thou look and asked when I was gonna get fat and cranky. So now my mom's on the whole 'when are you gonna make ME a grandma?' kick. Whoopee.

Rewinding the Biological Clock
First of all, a big welcome to acharny's Psycho Babble, the first blog to add us to her list! I'm being advertised! Woo! I highly recommend her blog, it's like me writing about the housewife thing, but she's got WAY more going on in her life with kids and BFL and such. Enough shameless plugging, on with the rant!
The bestest best friend called again today, and once again I am considering adding childbirth to my list of things to do. Believe me, I am trying to hold off on the baby talk, as infant negotiations aren't slated to start until after New Year's 2005, but talking to someone like the bestest best friend kinda kicks it into high gear.
I'd like to have kids, really I would, but I think that the hub-unit and I made the right decision to wait at least a year so that we could enjoy each other without stress (yeah, I said STRESS) of having a child. This way, we can go out and do the things we want to do, spend our money on the things we want to spend it on, and so on and so forth. Plus, now we can set aside money in a 'baby fund' so we're well prepared when I finally get all fat and cranky.
And there's the age thing. I'll be 25 this year, with plenty of kid-bearing years ahead of me, but the hub-unit is 35 with no priors. If we wait TOO long, he'll be really old when we finally send the chilluns to college and such. I mean, the guy's RETIRING in three years that's how old he is.
With the bestest best friend (among all my other friends) having kids, I feel like I'm missing out on something. BBF is actually on her SECOND bun, and I have yet to consider my first. I think we're doing the right thing by waiting, however...
I've seen too many couples that I am acquainted with get pregnant right off the bat and then they don't do too much together. I want to be able to spend time with the man without having to change diapers and such, just for now. But when there are babies everywhere....
Well, you know how my brain feels. It's my body that's starting to get wonky.

The Horror of Clam Casserole
I don't know why I made it, the recipe seemed good...
I was wrong.
The smell made me want to barf, and apparently it gave the hub-unit an unhappy stomach all night. For the first time, I had to give something we tried to cook a blue super-ucka. Bleah.
In happier news, the hub-unit got recalculated and made first class! That means more money and better retirement benefits, which is good. It also means that we have to get new patches sewn on EVERYTHING he owns. THAT'S gonna be fun.

Supah Whu-?
Sitting here watching the WB'S Superstar USA, and I think my ears are bleeding. These people SUCK. They suck more than normal stuff sucks. Like, seriously, SUCKS. I don't even think that I can appreciate this show, and I was one of the biggest supporters of this idea. Dammit. These guys suck more than the WB itself.
I know I said boycott, and after this, I am serious.

The First of the Kitty Commandments
1. I am a cat, not a human, therefore I will not whine until someone flips the toilet lid up.
2. I will not walk around on my tiptoes with my back arched in a mincey kind of way, it is not comfortable and creeps my human roommates out.
3. I will not jump on top of a door that is only two inches wide and eight feet tall at two in the morning and then yowl so everyone will watch me, my human roommates do not think is it anywhere near that cool and will panic.
4. Whatever it is that they are doing with that swatch of toilet paper while sitting on the toilet is THEIR business, not mine, and I should keep my paws to myself.
5. The 5 dollar electric mouse my human male roommate bought for me is a toy, not the anti-christ, and is much more fun to play with than the plastic ring from a milk bottle.
6. I will not ignore my favorite plastic penis toy all day, only to start knocking it about with great fervor once a stranger walks into the house. They just won't understand.
7. I will not make a nest in the clean clothes, getting so comfortable that I only move a few inches to pee and then settle back down. My roommates do not think it smells of 'musky goodness'.
8. I will not fall onto my back with my tummy exposed, only to go psycho when someone tries to rub me. Hands are not the enemy.
9. I will not drool incessantly when I am comfortable on the bed, only to shake my head at one AM and splatter my roommates when I feel the need to get up and use the kitty box.
10. I will not stand in the kitchen and sing at 4 AM on the weekends just to hear my voice. It creeps out the humans and will not get me fed any quicker.
11. My roommate's feet are always attched to their legs and do not move on their own; therefore, they will not escape and I have no need to prevent such an event by gnawing on the nearest appendage.
12. I will not jump on the lower section of my male human roommate's body. It is funny, but then my female roommate gets grumpy for the rest of the night.
13. It may taste good to me, but licking the armpits of my roommates first thing in the morning will not endear me to them any more than licking other things that are equally as ticklish.
14. I will not attack my sister by jumping on her tummy until she barfs, because I am not the one who has to clean it up, or step in it three minutes before I have to be somewhere important.