There's just an empty space
So what is it that has me thinking my life is as gay as a pack of Phil Collins lyrics?
Well I'll tell you what. After a day of an exhaustion too crushing to leave me able to reassemble the blender and thus walking away from the whole kitchen. And after a weekend of varied parental ruin resplendent with cheap discipline and poor or no napping, 100% nitrate based nutrional solutions... After all that I was given this tonight!
Ah, the Fresco. A robust replacment for the five-year-old Bonjourno I had to retire last month. The beloved oh-so-barely-out of the doghouse p-man took it upon himself to pick this up for me today as a postscript to his workin' man barista -based interlude circa 10:25.
Bless you, husband.
You know for a week or so I have been pretty deep in the 'what am I doing here?' I miss work. I miss the opportunities to kick butt and be heard. I miss my old latte for breakfast, latte for lunch, followed by a sensible dinner routine. I think it was when the Bonjourno gave out that was the straw that broke this camel's back. While I can persist in this imp driven impatience-o-vision universe it is less rosy without the comfort of fuzzy milk.
Honey, you're the only one who really knew me at all.
Labels: Crapola, husband, micro-parenting
posted by mo-wo at 9:46 p.m.
6 Comments:
Fucking thing doesn't work. Helloooo Rover.
Great. Now I'll have that song stuck in my head all day.
Okay, laughing at your Phil Collins, first of all. But let me add - I've been kicking butt all damn summer. Hell, my leg is sore. But somehow, I STILL don't feel like anyone is listening. Sigh.
Hasn't Starbucks invaded Canada yet? No reason to make your own lattes at home. That's so Euro, n'est-ce pas? Ahh...what do I know? I don't even drink coffee.
we've been through three of those, as Oodgie has a fetish for what she sophisticatedly calls "fuzzy milk"
does is stir Thai food?
I know that "miss work" feeling. I just went back to work, and I have that "happy-to-be-at-work" feeling. My co-workers tell me to enjoy it, because it won't last -- and I think they're right.
I don't quite know how to describe it -- over my two years as a SAHM, I enjoyed every minute I spent with my kids, but I certainly didn't enjoy every moment I spent not working. In years past, when I was at work, I longed to be spending sunny, carefree afternoons at the park with the kids, but a couple of years at home really drove home the point that it's not all about sunny, carefree afternoons.
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