I have a relatively short list of things I do every day no matter what day of the week it is--no matter what my plans for the day are.
This comes to my mind because we went away for part of the day yesterday. We left around 9:30 and go home about 6:00 so it wasn't a huge day away, but it was enough to interrupt the usual flow of things around here.
When I wake up I immediately do a handful of things that aren't necessarily all in the same order, but I do eventually get around to all these things by around 10:30:
scoop litter
feed/water outside cats
water plants
clean up kitchen/dining room area
think about lunch/dinner
ride my bike or walk on treadmill
general pick up of clutter
wash/dry/fold a load of clothes if necessary
load/run/unload dishwasher
Floors vacuum/"mop" -- I use quotes because I use a Hoover FloorMate
This does not include the things I do, weekly, monthly and so on. There are many things I do regularly that take up other portions of my day, but that's not what this is about.
Instead I got up yesterday and did none of those things. I toddled off with my husband for a day of whimsy. When I got home, it was all waiting for me. Dishes, clutter, cat poo, no exercise. My husband on the other hand had nothing on his plate for the evening. I told him to study his Sunday School lesson until he felt comfortable. I had some things I could do and then we could run over to Wal-Mart to pick up some things I'd been putting off for quite some time.
Warning: Approaching Side Note!
I desperately need something to catch the sand by the back door. My family all but refuses to remove their shoes when they come inside. When I say something about it, there is much eye rolling and an effort is made under my watchful eye, but soon there are mountains of sand piled up around the back door.
The other day, I actually saw my husband walk over to our beautiful and irreplaceable tropical print area rug and WIPE HIS BARE FEET on it!
I calmly asked him what he was doing.
"I felt something on my foot." He said.
"Did it feel anything like sand from outside and litter from the leak in the garbage bag you carried through here this morning?" I said.
"I wasn't wiping my feet." He said.
"That's funny. Because this--" I made the motion of wiping my feet on the same spot of carpet he'd just wiped his feet on. "--looks like wiping ones feet on a carpet."
He didn't seem to care or be bothered by me pointing it out to him. Where did this man grow up? A grass hut?
So I made much about getting out the Floormate and doing the kitchen floor. It was 10:30 at night.
So I am going to buy some indoor/outdoor carpet squares to try to remedy this 10 year old problem once and for all. One for outside and one for inside.
He studied his Sunday School lesson for about an hour. I walked on my treadmill, poured myself a glass of wine and sat down in front of the TV. It was after 8:00 and I'd already had two glasses of wine and was eyeing a Red Velvet cake on the counter when he finally asked me if I wanted to go to Wal-Mart.
I said no. One more night on a 10 year old problem wouldn't hurt anything. That's how we roll.
So he eventually moved to the bed with my laptop to look at coins and I watched another hour of TV until I was in such a stupor from Red Velvet cake and Black Swan Reisling I went to bed. He turned off the light and continued looking at coins well into the night.
Everything I didn't do yesterday was waiting for me today including a new day's worth of everything on that list. I was up around 5:30 unable to sleep so hit the computer and looked at urban legends for several hours. He came out around 8:30, ready to go to Sunday School. He read through his lesson--again--and dressed for church.
He wants to go to a gun show with our son. My son is very much into guns and I looked at it as an opportunity for them to spend some time together. Off they went. Three days had now gone by and he had not done a single thing to pick up behind himself or to maintain our home. This is how he is. If he has absolutely nothing else to do, he will pick from a myriad of possibilities and that will be his contribution for sometimes as much as a week or more. Sometimes his "help" is nothing more than a hindrance because he leaves a wake of mess behind himself.
I'm still waiting for him to clean his mess from fixing the hot water heater over a week ago. Hot water heater had been leaking slowly for a very long time. A bucket--full of dryer lint--placed under it finally filled. He just went outside and poured the water in the grass. Plastic bag and all right there by the side door. Where did this man grow up?
So, you still may ask, what does this have to do with me getting a full time job? Because in my 25 years of marriage I've had a few full time jobs and I've had numerous part-time jobs. The last full time job I had was a perfect opportunity. I sat my husband and my then high school aged son down and told them about it. I told them I would need help. I wasn't going to do everything and life would cease to exist the way it had. We'd have quite a bit of extra money, but all those things come with trade-offs. Both of them agreed to help with keeping the house clean and pitching in with other things like meals and maintenance. I was not going to work a full-time job and come home to everything I did around the house.
They agreed.
As you might have guessed, it didn't last. Within a few weeks--not even months--their worlds were back to the way they always were. I was working a 50 hour week, still teaching privately and managing to do all those things around the house. I was worn out and burned out. My dream of getting the same respect for a long day at work was shot down. I just didn't understand why I didn't get the same respect when my work day ended--er, seldom ended.
I have made three attempts to work at a full time or part time job and have never got the respect a man receives from a day of work. No matter what it was I have done, it was never as valuable as what my husband did. There was one brief period of time that between the full time job I was working and teaching at home, I made more money than my husband. I remember his attitude changing. There was no way I was making more money than him. I showed him the figures.
He had to believe.
I had to quit.
I couldn't keep up the pace.
I probably haven't done a very good job of explaining myself here, but I believe that's not the point here. The point is figuring out what my next step is to be. Where I am to go next and what I am to do next.
For now, the day I get a full time job is the day I leave my husband for good and never look back for an instance.
Well, the house is empty for a few hours and I've got to get to the things I do on the "first" of each month, but that's another list another way that I contribute around here that goes, for the most part, unnoticed until a day like yesterday.
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