Thursday, September 25, 2014

Apply self topically.

You know, it's hard sometimes to have a blog for which I need topics without becoming bogged down in the topical items of the day. Is Rocket Raccoon a better hero that Nolan's Superman? What side should I fall on in Gamergate? Should our focus be on Syria or ISIS?

Boxers or briefs?

But as with my chosen propaganda posters, I have chosen to keep this blog free of the usual polarizing rhetoric on the radio and focus more on internal struggles. Does my husband have clothes for tomorrow? Did I remember to pack an apple in my son's lunch? How do I remove THAT stain?

Boxers or briefs?

Okay, okay, focus! So the house has seen better days of late. As the sole house keeper, when you are feeling under the weather, the raccoons (aka, my son and husband) learn to adapt. Obviously washing laundry is a skill that they teach us in housewyf school and folding is something my husband refuses to do because of what he claims are my "Exacting standards."

I don't demand much.

My El Guapo has been clutter. I spent the summer trying to rid us of this dreaded disease of a modern consumerist culture and that has basically resulted in it creeping out of hidden corners to lay about my house and trip us in the dark. Now on top of that, my dear sweet beloved husband who I would not murder because I have no where else to go (and also blah blah, something about love), is collecting cans for the boy scouts. That's right. So all those tin cans I usually rinse out and toss into the recycling bin, he wants to keep. So for some reason this means that they don't get washed and must be stacked on counters, laying in bags around the kitchen, oh, and roaming free.

Just because I like to WATCH Hoarders,
does not mean I want to be ON the show.

I know what I have to do. It's not really an easy thing, but then, when do you have to resolve to do something when that something is NOT difficult?

I resolve to eat this.

I'm thinking that the first thing I need to conquer is the laundry. I'm so behind that the pile is nearly as tall as I am and I, er, haven't changed the sheets in a bit. Next will be drifts of clutter in the kitchen. I realize that my husband recently reduced his number of jobs to one that actually both pays the bills and gives us health insurance, but this also does not give him permission to decorate my car or my kitchen with his old papers.

Has anyone seen my casserole pan?

As for the books double stacked on the floor behind my mops, as a guy told his marriage counselor, "We're here to discuss THEIR problems not MINE!"

(Real actual picture of my house.)

Okay, the books belong to ALL of us.