i'm just tired and bored with myself
really, justin's new schedule will be fabulous when i go back to work after maternity leave, as it will allow him three days home with milo alone, but for now it sucks rhinoceros balls. we had just sat down to breakfast together this morning when justin had to jump up and leave. and breakfast was damn good, too - whole wheat waffles topped with greek yogurt, warm sliced peaches (sprinkled with cinnamon and splenda) and crushed almonds - who wants to rush over something that fabulous? i suppose how i felt is how justin has felt the last, oh, three years on weekday mornings, when he fixes me breakfast, of which i gulp down half, and then i run for the door. wow, does it suck.
i'm used to a few hours alone on sunday while justin works, but two whole weekend days? it's too much time to spend on the couch watching tv and napping, as is my custom - i would die from the boredom. so i've done two loads of laundry and folded three, and picked up the whole house, and made up the guest bed for the next occupant to come along (probably my father-in-law, when my niece is born some day this month), and - now what?
i have a stack of new yorkers and parentses and gourmets awaiting me, but i'm not in the mood. i'm 3/4 of the way through ian mcewan's "saturday" and today would be an ideal time to finish, except i haven't touched it since my plane ride home from jacksonville, which was weeks ago, so now i have no idea where it is. i want to paint my upstairs bathroom a crisp apple green, but we haven't gotten paint yet, and i'm not supposed to be painting anyway. i could call kath or dyan, but frankly i don't feel like being social. if i was capable of knitting or some other crafty thing - well, if i was capable of such a thing i would be an entirely different person other than me, let's be honest.
i've checked my blood sugar twice today. i've planned dinner (cheese ravioli in marinara sauce, salad of mixed greens, pears and pecans). i've looked at hans's pictures. i've listened to milo's heartbeat. there's nothing to be done in his room. i've tossed out the flowers we cut last weekend for the house that have wilted. i could sweep and mop the floors, but i have to save something for tomorrow, when justin will be at work again.
i sound like a spoiled brat. or a smug one. poor me, my house is so fucking clean and i have a myriad of leisure possibilities but i just can't be bothered to pick one. ugh. extreme self-loathing and disgust is setting in.
i'm used to a few hours alone on sunday while justin works, but two whole weekend days? it's too much time to spend on the couch watching tv and napping, as is my custom - i would die from the boredom. so i've done two loads of laundry and folded three, and picked up the whole house, and made up the guest bed for the next occupant to come along (probably my father-in-law, when my niece is born some day this month), and - now what?
i have a stack of new yorkers and parentses and gourmets awaiting me, but i'm not in the mood. i'm 3/4 of the way through ian mcewan's "saturday" and today would be an ideal time to finish, except i haven't touched it since my plane ride home from jacksonville, which was weeks ago, so now i have no idea where it is. i want to paint my upstairs bathroom a crisp apple green, but we haven't gotten paint yet, and i'm not supposed to be painting anyway. i could call kath or dyan, but frankly i don't feel like being social. if i was capable of knitting or some other crafty thing - well, if i was capable of such a thing i would be an entirely different person other than me, let's be honest.
i've checked my blood sugar twice today. i've planned dinner (cheese ravioli in marinara sauce, salad of mixed greens, pears and pecans). i've looked at hans's pictures. i've listened to milo's heartbeat. there's nothing to be done in his room. i've tossed out the flowers we cut last weekend for the house that have wilted. i could sweep and mop the floors, but i have to save something for tomorrow, when justin will be at work again.
i sound like a spoiled brat. or a smug one. poor me, my house is so fucking clean and i have a myriad of leisure possibilities but i just can't be bothered to pick one. ugh. extreme self-loathing and disgust is setting in.
posted by laura at 3:06 PM
10 Comments:
You can come and clean my house, if you're looking for something to do ;) (Although, I don't think just one weekend would be quite enough time...) Hope you find something interesting to do -- have you alphabetized your spice rack lately, lol?!
The spice rack is already alphabatized.... but don't let that fool you, we are generally slobs. It's just, well, Laura's mom was in town, so the house is clean.
May I suggest that you go out back and cut some of those fantastic roses?
Hey, get this. I've been told that D has told someone else here that we have the most fantastic yard!
to be fair, i have worked hard to *keep* the house clean since my mom left. and the roses in bloom are the old fashioned ones - they don't have long enough stems to put in vases. sorry.
Two words...retail therapy. OK...four words...retail therapy with me. Think about it. :o)
hang in there.....do you knit?
It took me 5 attempts to get past the first sentence of this post. Just how big are rhinocerous balls? You tripped me right up with that one. I have the attention span of a gnat. I'm sorry. And I wish I could even imagine cooking like you do.
I'm still on the subject line.
Is there a term for working opposite shifts? It's like a long-distance relationship in the same house.
I'm jealous of your lack of ability to do nothing. I seem to be an expert lately.
I hope you found something! I do hate it when i feel sort of besides myself with a lack of anything to do. i don't get that feeling very often. I hate it when I want something good to read, but nothing sounds good.
Ok not ability, but lack of interest in doing nothing...
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