Favourite Books

  • The Green Mile
  • Animal Farm
  • Lord of the Flies
  • Lord of the Rings
  • To Kill a Mockingbird

Tuesday, 29 January 2013

Wasted Days

Well....I have hit the big times!!! I had comments from someone I do not know. O.K. maybe I DO know them, but they are very mysterious, so I am just going to pretend this is someone who randomly arrived at my blog (not through Kitchen sex utensils, so they claim) and has actually taken the time to read my rantings. This is thrilling! I understand my friends feeling obligated to pop in, but this person did so on their own accord.
   When you live in such a tiny little world as I do, with no where to go, that even remotely resembles a social scene. When a big night is a bottle of wine, and your hubby and grown children spending an hour in the hot tub, or....no wine, and hubby and Grandchildren in the tub, the knowledge that somewhere out there, maybe someplace warm and exotic, a total stranger has commented on my blog, is exciting!
  So...LB whoever you are, and wherever you are (I hope it is someplace far more exciting than the Peace) thank you so much for adding a tiny drop of happiness in my world.
  Now, onto what is bashing about in between my ears today. I already realize that, about 9 tonight, as I am getting ready for bed, I will once again get hit by the fact that I did not accomplish diddly. Oh, I worked, but, I have not done a damn thing since I walked in the door at home.
  It was one of those days the urge to waste hit me early. I decided before leaving work that I was going to take supper home. Cripes, I didn't even make supper!! Oh, well, thank goodness, no dirty dishes...Really, I am getting to an age that I really can't afford to waste time. Yes, I understand, we all need time to relax, but wasted days, are not even relaxing days. They are days that you wake up, climb on the Hamster wheel, and spin about managing what is necessary , not even living the moment, the motions are habit, you manage to keep your eyes open, and appear to function, but, all along, you just want to survive, until you can return to your own little space.
  It's not like your personal space is terribly interesting, nothing wonderful is going on, no feature movie, no wonderful cake awaits your arrival. Why, then, do I spend the whole work day, just craving nothing? I am admitting, I have done nothing!! Came home, closed the door on temperatures that are hovering close to freezing Hell over, pulled my fuzzy housecoat on, over my clothes, swallowed down supper (as quickly as I could, so I didn't have to share too much with the dog) , turned on the TV to some absolutely anal show about Property Virgins, and now I sit, attempting to explain to you, why I did this.
  Cripes, I can't explain it!! I'm not overly tired, I'm not sick, I'm not even angry, I'm just blah and hate myself!! I think I must waste about 40 days a year, at least. It's not like I don't have stuff to do, I have laundry, I have floors to clean, toilets to clean..Hummm...perhaps I am explaining it to myself right now? I think that is all it took, just putting down the words to what I just didn't want to do.
  I suppose this is life. Unless I win the lottery, these nothing jobs will continue to be waiting for me. I doubt very much, today will be the last "wasted day". I will, at some point (maybe not tomorrow) have to pull up my socks, and do something. If only I could find that magic potion, a quick drink, and then suddenly all those crappy cleaning jobs are quickly accomplished, allowing me to arrive home, and do exactly what I am doing now (nothing) without the nagging guilt.
   How on earth did I get to a point in life where cleaning has become a guilty burden? Those who have known me for years remember entering my home, and seeing a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, mounds of laundry laying in wait by the wash machine, bathtub rings that you could count the years by, a toilet with a kids potty sitting on the seat. Those were the days when I was young, and should have been full of energy. I should have been following the kids around with Lysol wipes, and clorox. I did attempt to clean, back then I probably spent more energy hollering about how much I wished I could go from room to room cleaning, and be able to go back to the beginning to see the result of my work, (never, ever happened) then I now have throughout the day.
  But, the sad truth, now is, I can't place the blame for an untidy home on anyone but myself and the dog. Oh, that dog!!! He must be as messy as 3 kids!!!O.K. he doesn't leave a toilet bowl ring, but he does drink out of it, and dribbles all over the place. He seems to prefer taking any food (pizza, cookie, bone) onto the nice new shaggy area rug, to eat. I stand there and watch the bugger drop it onto the grey shag, over and over again. He plops himself on the nice cloth couch, which I purchased mainly because it appeared conducive to his fur colour (it is hidden pretty well, but, it attaches itself to any clothing that comes in contact), he will sit and drool puddles while watching me eat toast and butter, which of course, ends up eaten on the carpet (by the dog, not me).
  If he is not eating, he is apparently in desperate need of attention, which means he must drag out all of his toys (yes, he has far too many of these). A stranger coming to my door would think I had children, as now dogs don't just have a tennis ball, they have alligators, and snakes, and chickens, etc etc. These toys are coated in slobber, and dropped all over my floors.
  So, in reality, deep down inside, I must not want a clean home. Therefore, my days are not actually wasted, right? If the house was spotless, I would not have anything to bitch about, the dog would not hear the lovely sound of my voice, and I would simply walk in the door each and every day (with takeout supper) pull on my fuzzy housecoat, and do absolutely nothing......HOLA...Now I have almost convinced myself I should be grateful for housework?????