State of the DuVall household.
Sunday, September 08, 2013
It's Sunday night, and I am busy preparing for the week. And HELL week it will be. My job is defined by 30 day, calendar 30 days exactly deadlnes. I cover three offices. and 30 days ago Friday, my three offices decided to give me 12 deadlines. I'm suppose to have 12 a month. Not a week. I've prepared my menu, knowing that I will work late Monday night. A friend is covering boyscout duty for me. Tuesday, I can work a 10 hour day, with dinner planned in the crock pot. at lunch time I will go groc shopping, it's payday. Wednesday, I will have to get off work early. My daughter has volunteered to host a team dinner. Which I get to cook. For 16 people. In my house. Which is not clean. yet. thursday, it's a 10 hour day and friday, it's work till I get them done. So I am a little worried about this week. I usually turn to my husband for support when I am worried. Except he is caught up in his own 10 hour days and leaves every thing to me. If the house is going to get clean, it will be me. I assigned chores, and most of them blew me off. My son, instead of moping the floor is throwing a fit. We are going on an hour of him complaining that my dog, whom I love, peed on his football gear. He shouldn;'t have left it on the floor by the door. We all know the dog isn't potty trained. Stop yelling at the poor dog. My little one is not vacuuming the floor, instead he is ignoring me and playing on the computer. I have raised the anty, and threatened computer grounded. The daughter, who is suppose to clean the bathrooms, but is hiding in her room, assures me that it will get done and by the way, the only tall boy, tall enough to escort her 5"11" inches to homecoming was making out with her arch rival. The problem is that no one takes responsibility for anyone else. My husband, who, after I explained that I would need to work on Saturday, and therefor would need some help, did a couple loads of laundry and left them for me to fold. today, he volunteered at church, watched lord of the rings, visited with his mother and cousin, and watched a knights tale. All I asked of him was to clean off the table, the volleyball team needs to eat somewhere, and the main counter that gets piled with his crap that he doesn't deal with. He is busy on his own projects, using my good sheets to make bedding for the daycare. When I said he could cut up old sheets, I didn't mean my good eyelett trimmed egyptian cotton. Just another thing I 've donated to the daycare. Venting is better than eating my anger.