Ever Get the Slows?

I am a slug.  I have achieved some sort of house-sitting-non-vacation nirvana and I don't feel even remotely productive.   That is unfortunate because I still have 2 jobs, still have to go to work, do laundry, the whole nine yards.  It is some sort of limbo not being fully in one place or the other. It  is fascinating - I've never had this sensation before.  I'm fully convinced  I will  show up at work in clam digger pants and one of my husband's old shirts, and on a day I can be house sitting I'll get up, shower, do the hair and make-up bit and go sit in the living room and make applique grapes (don't  ask) for the next quilt  project taking shape in my head.

This summer's best-selling t-shirt at Joe's store says, "Say no to pot!"  Next to that, there is a cartoon of a lobster pointing to a boiling pot of water.  It's pretty cute.  Last night there were 3 lobsters that said YES to a  pot. We steamed them, then took them out on the front porch and cracked, dunked, poked and inhaled their buttery goodness. It was delish.  Not to be wasteful, we put all the shells and bits of legs into a zip lock bag and in to the freezer.  Next time we are wanting some shrimp scampi, we'll pull the bag out of the freezer and use the shells to make a lovely broth.  Being married to the son of a fisherman has its perks - the man does things with fish that make my head explode.  It's a good thing he can because all of his bad habits at home are starting to show up at the house-sitting-house, including his unexplainable penchant for leaving cupboard doors wide open in the kitchen.  It makes me NUTS.

I wish I could go back to house-sitting-house and take a nap.  I even brought one of mom's quilts over there to crawl under and just bliss off to sleep.  I take the BEST naps over there.  I am a slug.  I have the slows.

Payback is a You-Know-What

I have today off. WOO HOO. (I'm working Saturday and Sunday  so don't get any 3-day weekend fantasies in your head.)  I dragged a load of my laundry to the laundry room and commenced a get-it-up-on-the-clothesline race against time.  (Afternoon sea breezes undo all that sunlit drying.)

About 11 am, the phone rang - it was my genius husband  informing me that a friend of ours was coming over for a home cooked dinner.  Whatever.  It's my night to cook, and that isn't a problem. I can cook for hordes without breaking a sweat.   What IS a problem is the house has been a little, er, neglected lately and things were pretty dusty. And messy.  And - you get the idea.  I have, in vain, tried to explain to my husband that when people come over and see a mess, they don't leave and say, "Hey, that Joe needs to get some housework done!"  No, it's always the wife that takes the hit for any untidiness.

One thing led to another, and I have spent the last three hours cleaning, moving plants outside, dusting, vacuuming, ironing tablecloths (long story) and now I am HOT AND TIRED.  Bonus - I'm not finished.  The house looks good, but I haven't spent this long looking at things in a while.  Let's just say I've made some executive decisions.

On my next day off, I am calling Goodwill.  I am telling them to bring the BIG truck.  My husband will learn that he should never give me an opportunity to asses the clutter in this house again.  (Fair disclosure - it's mostly his crap. Honest.  It includes some of his mother's furniture that needs to go away. Forever.)

It's payback, baby.  After 22 years, you would think he would know better than to mess with me.

Paralyzing Snowstorm

Truth be told it is light flurries right now, but expected to close down much of the state by about 2PM.  The ensuing shut down of businesses & activation of snow day policies has left me comfortably at home, still in my PJ's, with the entire day ahead of me and I am.....paralyzed.  I don't know what to do (or not do) first.  I have so many options that I instead of being gridlocked in traffic, I'm blocked with indecision. I like the feeling. As much as I thought I loved snow days as a kid, the same event as an adult is intoxicating.

Meanwhile, I'm trying not to think about my front steps looking the way they did after the last storm (see picture), and the inevitable  tunneling out the basement door like a mole.  Right now the coffee pot is full, the electric blanket on my bed is still turned on, and I'm absolutely convinced I will not be setting any land/speed records for accomplishing anything of substance.  I might sew, I might read, I might veg and watch a movie. Maybe I'll make cinnamon rolls.

Unfortunately, if I don't work, I don't get paid.  I can make up the hours later this week.  But the  actual cost of having a day where I can do (or not do) anything I want..... priceless.