A day without boys
Today was one of those rarities of a day -- one in which I did not go to work due to holiday (Good Friday? I say Great Friday!) and not due to hangover/bitterness/laziness and I had all day to do whatever the *bleep!* I wanted (gosh!).
And no boys were around.
Don't get me wrong, I love the boys who live in my house. Their silly antics (responses expressed in farts, heated conversations about politics and video games, enthusiasm for shit like dinner and new episodes of South Park) keep me amused. But sometimes I need some alone time. And I done had me some.
First, I woke up at 9, made coffee and sat in front of the computer, dreaming of the ways I can spend my glorious day alone. The hours ahead of me were like my blank cavas and I was going to paint giant streaks of rainbow colors, skipping and singing a tra-la-la tune along the way.
To start my day, I went to the pool at 10:30 only to sit there and get chilly because the sun had said "see ya!" and clouds sullied my poolside experience. My new pink bathing suit and I did not appreciate that much. So I went home and ate last night's chili-flavored Ramen noodles and waited for Matt to get home for lunch.
He came home with Taco Bell burritos and we watched People's Court. Then he went back to work and I waited on the second stair step for the rest of the afternoon waiting for him to get back.
I'm lying.
I dropped him off at work so I could have the car and proceed with the rest of my day. In an effort to get nice and brown, I went back to the pool. I took our copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Repair" because I heard it's good and dammit, I'm going to make a concerted effort to read the books I own. It's ridiculous that we have so many books (classics, too!) and I've only read about half of them. Twice.
By the way, do not take Dr. Pepper with you to the pool, especially on a hot day. Take water instead. You'll thank me later for this bit of advice.
After about an hour, I came back home, took a shower and went to the kosher grocery store, which was buzzing with Passover celebrators and as I manuevered through the aisles, I thought to myself, "even though this place is packed, it's not as bad as shopping at HEB in Brownsville on a normal day." Seriously, folks, it's downright infuriating shopping in Brownsville. Those of you from Browntown know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I came home with an aching pocketbook from frivolous purchases -- smelly candles, a new razor because mine is like six years old and embarrassingly grimy, roses of different colors because it's Easter and the place needs a woman's delicate touch sometimes, plus the basics like eggs, biscuits and tiny pieces of ham to make little egg and ham sandwiches for breakfast. As I was cutting the roses to fit my vase, I felt pleased with myself. Like I invoked the cheesetastic Oprah segment of "finding your spirit" and not only did I paint rainbows on the hours of my day, but I brought out my super-duper charged estrogen paint brush and sprinkled the day with roses and smelly candles. To top it off, I put a pump soap dispenser that lets out a foamy pear-scented ball of joy in the powder room. This place now reeks of estrogen. Or pears.
At the end of my glorious day of deconstructionist time, I transgressed into the tight-lipped amused lady figure of the house as the boys were now home. Big C playing his video game and Matt playing navigator to the game and me on the computer. A comment here and there about the roses, smelly candle and foamy soap of joy and my chest inflates with pride because I have made my mark.
And no boys were around.
Don't get me wrong, I love the boys who live in my house. Their silly antics (responses expressed in farts, heated conversations about politics and video games, enthusiasm for shit like dinner and new episodes of South Park) keep me amused. But sometimes I need some alone time. And I done had me some.
First, I woke up at 9, made coffee and sat in front of the computer, dreaming of the ways I can spend my glorious day alone. The hours ahead of me were like my blank cavas and I was going to paint giant streaks of rainbow colors, skipping and singing a tra-la-la tune along the way.
To start my day, I went to the pool at 10:30 only to sit there and get chilly because the sun had said "see ya!" and clouds sullied my poolside experience. My new pink bathing suit and I did not appreciate that much. So I went home and ate last night's chili-flavored Ramen noodles and waited for Matt to get home for lunch.
He came home with Taco Bell burritos and we watched People's Court. Then he went back to work and I waited on the second stair step for the rest of the afternoon waiting for him to get back.
I'm lying.
I dropped him off at work so I could have the car and proceed with the rest of my day. In an effort to get nice and brown, I went back to the pool. I took our copy of "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Repair" because I heard it's good and dammit, I'm going to make a concerted effort to read the books I own. It's ridiculous that we have so many books (classics, too!) and I've only read about half of them. Twice.
By the way, do not take Dr. Pepper with you to the pool, especially on a hot day. Take water instead. You'll thank me later for this bit of advice.
After about an hour, I came back home, took a shower and went to the kosher grocery store, which was buzzing with Passover celebrators and as I manuevered through the aisles, I thought to myself, "even though this place is packed, it's not as bad as shopping at HEB in Brownsville on a normal day." Seriously, folks, it's downright infuriating shopping in Brownsville. Those of you from Browntown know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I came home with an aching pocketbook from frivolous purchases -- smelly candles, a new razor because mine is like six years old and embarrassingly grimy, roses of different colors because it's Easter and the place needs a woman's delicate touch sometimes, plus the basics like eggs, biscuits and tiny pieces of ham to make little egg and ham sandwiches for breakfast. As I was cutting the roses to fit my vase, I felt pleased with myself. Like I invoked the cheesetastic Oprah segment of "finding your spirit" and not only did I paint rainbows on the hours of my day, but I brought out my super-duper charged estrogen paint brush and sprinkled the day with roses and smelly candles. To top it off, I put a pump soap dispenser that lets out a foamy pear-scented ball of joy in the powder room. This place now reeks of estrogen. Or pears.
At the end of my glorious day of deconstructionist time, I transgressed into the tight-lipped amused lady figure of the house as the boys were now home. Big C playing his video game and Matt playing navigator to the game and me on the computer. A comment here and there about the roses, smelly candle and foamy soap of joy and my chest inflates with pride because I have made my mark.
posted by deconstructionist at 7:36 PM
3 Comments:
Yes, alone time is so essential to the preservation of one's own sanity. Have a great weekend. :)
whatever happened to your neopet?
Aaaaaa-hahahaha. She's still alive. I check on her from time to time and still say dirty things to her PetPet, Althea (Oy! This is a family-friendly site.) You are so random sometimes -- did I even mention Neopets? I don't think so. Any-hoo, thanks for taking me back to the lazy days of neopetting.
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