I have a HUGE zit and also today is my husband's day off. The first bit, the zit part, that has nothing to do with Friday, it's just a HUGE zit prominently displayed prominently in the middle of my face. It could be Tuesday for all this HUGE zit knows.
Anyhow, I'd hoped that perhaps my guy and I could spend a nice day together, maybe go out for lunch, but Brad works nights and he hasn't been getting enough sleep lately and I knew when he dragged himself in after driving the kids to school at 8:30 this morning that he needed to sleep or he was going to die.
Okay, that's hyperbole. But really, the sight of him swaying in the doorway with his eyes closed, looking paler than his usual shade of pale, mouth agape, startled me. "Sohhh honey," he slurred, "wha da ya wanna do today?" And then I swear to God, the man started to snore.
"I want you to live and not die from some sleep deficit induced death syndrome," and I sent the guy to bed.
My day was again with the laundry and dishes, and I wrote for a very long time uninterrupted which was cool. I took care of some phone calls that I'd been avoiding and then got to feel a little proud of myself. Good job, Me! Way to make the calls!
When my guy finally came downstairs, he told me I looked pretty today, even though I'm wearing yesterday's clothes and I have a freaking HUGE ginormously HUGE pulsating screaming-red zit in the middle of my face. I read him the stuff I had been working on, we enjoyed leftover reheated dinner lunch with lots of hot sauce, ate some of the half price Halloween candy I scored and hid from the kids and we watched Amanda Palmer videos on Youtube. This was genuinely nice. I like that he appears to suffer from zit-blindness and I like it that we like the same things; hot sauce, cheap candy, Amanda Palmer.
One day I'm sure we'll both be awake at noon and we'll go out for lunch, but really, who cares. It was enough that we were in the same place at the same time, never mind that we weren't in the same room and one of us was unconscious. It was good. I'm grateful for this day.
Anyhow, I'd hoped that perhaps my guy and I could spend a nice day together, maybe go out for lunch, but Brad works nights and he hasn't been getting enough sleep lately and I knew when he dragged himself in after driving the kids to school at 8:30 this morning that he needed to sleep or he was going to die.
Okay, that's hyperbole. But really, the sight of him swaying in the doorway with his eyes closed, looking paler than his usual shade of pale, mouth agape, startled me. "Sohhh honey," he slurred, "wha da ya wanna do today?" And then I swear to God, the man started to snore.
"I want you to live and not die from some sleep deficit induced death syndrome," and I sent the guy to bed.
My day was again with the laundry and dishes, and I wrote for a very long time uninterrupted which was cool. I took care of some phone calls that I'd been avoiding and then got to feel a little proud of myself. Good job, Me! Way to make the calls!
When my guy finally came downstairs, he told me I looked pretty today, even though I'm wearing yesterday's clothes and I have a freaking HUGE ginormously HUGE pulsating screaming-red zit in the middle of my face. I read him the stuff I had been working on, we enjoyed leftover reheated dinner lunch with lots of hot sauce, ate some of the half price Halloween candy I scored and hid from the kids and we watched Amanda Palmer videos on Youtube. This was genuinely nice. I like that he appears to suffer from zit-blindness and I like it that we like the same things; hot sauce, cheap candy, Amanda Palmer.
One day I'm sure we'll both be awake at noon and we'll go out for lunch, but really, who cares. It was enough that we were in the same place at the same time, never mind that we weren't in the same room and one of us was unconscious. It was good. I'm grateful for this day.
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