Well, here it is, my first day home after the termination of my position at the office. The whole day’s my own, yet somehow I have a whole week’s worth of work to do. Funny how that happens.
“I wish I could pay you to stay at home and be my house husband,” My Darling B said to me as I drove her to work this morning. She doesn’t know how much I wish she could, too.
Let’s start a list of things I’ve got to do, just for giggles:
- unload the dish washer, then fill it up again; how pointless is that?
- wash a Himmalayan mountain of dirty clothes; how two people can make such a mess is beyond me
- clean the cat pans; these are so smelly now, the cats don’t see the point in covering their shit any more
- load up the weed whacker with a new spool of floss and go absolutely crazy in the yard
- clean up the garden shed, which looks like a three-bedroom house that’s been turned inside-out by a Cat Five tornado
- pet the cats; this sounds trivial, but it turns out this task cannot be ignored whenever one or both of us is at home during the day.
- clean the bathroom; the less said about that, the better
- demolish the tomato trellis that’s been leaning against the side of the garage ever since I put it there, out of sight, after gluing it together wrong
- sweep the dead leaves out of the garage that have been piled up in the back corner since last fall
- take the tire that went flat on me Saturday morning to the garage to get it patched; can’t Toyota make anything that doesn’t break?
- take a bike ride; the day’s too lovely not to
- pull weeds from the herb garden in my copious spare time
- drink coffee while doinking around on the internet
I guess you can see which end of the list I started on. Making good use of my time, yes sir!
This Is Drivel 