- I didn't work particularly late, maybe 15-20 minutes.
- But then I had to stop for groceries.
- Then, when I got home, put away the groceries, toot-sweet.
- Then I had to reconfigure all the baby gate-age.
(Penelope has graduated from her cage, but not from her habit of savaging soft furnishings, so she's still contained in 800 square feet or so of the house.) - Feed the furbabies.
- Oh, wait, it's time for the news.
- While wrangling all the remotes it takes to turn on and set up the TV, why not turn on the laptop and check email?
- Penelope out to her magical, beloved yard.
- Check email, then check Mr. X's blog, brother's blogs and/or Tumblr.
- I still haven't gone upstairs? I'm still wearing all my work clothes? Ugh.
- Upstairs, dump bags.
- Shuck professional togs, get distracted by choosing clothes for tomorrow.
- Neaten up the shoe shelves, recently freed from other duties. Yay, shoe shelves.
- Shoes for tomorrow. Purse for tomorrow. Bag for shoes for tomorrow. Where the hell did that work phone go? I know I put it in today's damned bag.
- Pack bags, lay out clothes, lay out jewelry and makeup for the morning.
(Yes. I am THAT pathetic, in the morning.) - Oh, wait, I still haven't put on comfortable clothes yet. I'm wandering around al fresco, here.
- Downstairs, back to the computer.
- I bet that work phone landed in the wrong pocket when I dropped it in the bag.
- Still forty-seven things to do ...
Every bit of all this crap takes "just a second." Just a second and I'll go up, just a second and I'll get back downstairs, just a second ... and it's well after 7:00 and I have not even begun to contemplate what to do for supper. I have a headache.
I also have pork chops, broccoli, a dab of decent kraut, some pickled beets. And exactly zero energy left for cooking the stuff. There's editing yet to deal with, and I have a pretty screaming headache. I still haven't tied my bloody sneakers yet. I haven't gotten a cup of WATER and I am very thirsty.
So ya gotta ask yourself ... when I've lost 25 pounds and people will bring food to my front door without my ever so much as having to pick up a telephone ... Is it any wonder I always end up with at least one pizza box in recycling every two weeks when they come for it?
7:19 p.m. and there's nobody to make supper for, or even just *with* me.
At least when I order in, I buy from local or regional restaurants. (I even support my own employer, second-hand ...)
4 comments:
There a very many advantages to being half of a couple. Having more spare time is not one of them.
I am constantly amazed at the amount of going out and doing things that singletons do because they are not using their energy in relationship stuff. I think the 'relationship stuff' is worth it - but there's no way I could have a full-time job and produce the writing output you do. Believe me, I tried.
I'm not looking for spare time. I want a partner. Bearing 100% responsibility for 100% of all responsibilities with pets, homeownership, and all of life's little everything elses just is not worthwhile every day. Try a sick day without any kind of support whatsoever. It's murder.
And I still spend a perfectly astounding amount of my life on "relationship stuff." That is not reserved only for those who have "someone" - it's for all of us as humans. My being single doesn't mean I don't have a mother who lives in town, friends who have problems and good things I commit emotional energy to, and all those things.
As to my writing output? Well something like nine years on, I STILL have not completed one single novel. I may blog, but my "real" output is for the birds! :)
Well, OK, I was trying to be positive. But I've been married 36 years last week, so obviously I think that being half of a couple is well worth it. But there are downsides too. Grass is greener and all that.
Given how much you write about yourself, you remain a very private person online. (I know this is deliberate, but it's quite impressive when you blog about your job, your home, your life and your dog quite so much.) So I am not in any position to give you relationship advice even if I wanted to. (Apart from 'Go to Iceland'. We were there a couple of weeks ago and discovered that, given the population is very small and highly inter-related, anyone visiting will find they make romantic friends really easily. And Iceland seems a nice place to live.) But I do think that, by and large, if we really want something, we get it. You are clearly a pretty neat person. If you're on your own, perhaps that's because, in the end, that makes you happier?
Anyway, I hope your next day was less stressful and that you're feeling cheerier now.
Hee. I'm on my own because the one man who ruined me for all the other boys might as *well* be in Iceland, actually. That's ultimately the frustration - not that "I'm alone" but that "that guy who dusts the top of the door frames and will pump gas in the rain without complaint is too far away" ... :)
My apologies for the pile-on. It's just every day *is* the same! I usually go with it, but now and then if you don't kvetch the pressure does build up.
Fortunately, I do have quite the debonair little feline man around the house. Between Gossamer the Editor Cat and Penelope Pup, I do find the solitude isn't exactly of the Brooding Author sort.
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