*If I ever admitted to feeling anything at all I almost might tell you I seem to have some sort of PTSD that gets triggered with any jolt of adrenaline leading to anxiety rivaling the pot incident of 1999. If this was a television drama it would be the kind of scene where I’m in bed and the camera shows my perspective and it’s all ceiling fan swooshing around until even a toddler would be yelling HELICOPTER, MAN!! HELICOPTER!! And then I would get all red faced and strangle someone. Except I do it all on the inside.
Where it counts.
*The repetitious minutia of my daily life seriously wears me down. It’s this slow quiet death. Make the little people dress themselves. Make the little people undress and wash. Make them dress again. Fill the dishwasher. Empty the dishwasher. Use dishes. Fill the dishwasher again. Take dirty clothes downstairs. Put in washer. Put in dryer. Fold. Take up two flights and put away. Start over. Sweep. And Sweep. And sweep again. Nearly crap pants when almost run down by wild little man speeding through the pile you just swept on tricycle. Thank Gawd you did not crap pants because you REALLY don’t need more pants to wash-dry-fold. But it’s not just that you have to do all these endless never complete tiny terrible tasks… it’s that all the people you have to do them for RESENT you for it. You have to FIGHT them to get them to BARELY cooperate. And they LIE!!! They will say they did things they did not do!! *snaps* FOR THE LOVE OF GAWD JUST BRUSH YOUR GODDAMN TEETH! DO IT FOR YOU!!!!!!!!
*You know that old joke about how men don’t notice the details of housework? Ya know what I‘m talking about? How women are insane about dust or socks strewn about and raving bitchy lunatics? I’ve discovered men notice the details of housework much more when they’re sexually frustrated. Both as something to complain about and something to do in an attempt to earn physical affection. This isn’t a discovery for the world. I suspect wives know all about this and it relates very closely to feminine “headaches” not related to mothering. It’s just I never knew it before. Not in such an obvious way. It’s not a useful discovery for women living with men they’re fucking unless they’re interested in negotiating with their body and/or giving up sex hoping for help with laundry. I mean that’s just sort of stupid if you ask me. You know what a laundry pile is? A decent place to have sex. So it’s not useful or anything- It’s just interesting for "scientific" observation argument type purposes. What might actually be useful information for husbands is that I’ve heard women don’t notice the details of housework in as bitchy a fashion when they're sexually satisfied. Just saying. Of course it takes more than washing my sweaters wrong so that they can now be sold on ebay for Chihuahuas to get me in a pile of laundry. More might be the wrong word. Something else. Yeah. It takes something else.
December 15, 2009
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