Tag Archives: lazy ass mofo

I’m back and I’m…just like before.

I feel like an explanation is due, since I disappeared for like 500 years. (Sorry.) (HI!)

Well, some pretty awful things happened to some of the people I hold nearest and dearest, and I was very busy trying to be helpful while actually probably making things worse because that is just my nature, as you guys know. I’m pretty sure I have NEVER said the right thing at the right time. Good thing it’s the thought that counts, and that mind readers don’t exist.*

Then there’s this world we are living in and all the people in it who are just breaking my heart and then stomping on it and then maybe it gets picked back up but then it’s broken again and I just can’t understand all the HATE. It makes me feel sad and unfunny and like even trying to be funny is somehow sacrilegious.

Also, I started a new medication that turned me into a zombie, but not the flesh-eating kind. I was a much gentler and kind of a drooling zombie. It wasn’t until I quit taking it for other issues that I realized how much of myself I had lost and that was pretty scary. Especially when people were like, “Oh, but you seemed so much better, happier!” Uh, YEAH, cause LIGHTENING BUGS WERE ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT. Lightening bugs are cool, but no. Not worth it. I’d like to be a person, even if I am a seriously fucked-up one.

So, I think I said a while back that I would ease myself back into blogging by sharing some of my Facebook posts with you. That is obviously not true, because I’m about to do it again. BUT THERE’S ALWAYS HOPE, RIGHT? *waves imaginary pompoms* *wishes I had some actual pompoms*

 

July 20

My husband made dinner last night AND fixed my plate.

I’m sure it had nothing to do with seeing me holding the dish soap over the food, about to liberally douse it.

He’s just really sweet. And probably doesn’t want to eat soap.

 

July 17

I told my 14yo to do the dishes before he went to bed.

He’s been awake since 10 a.m. yesterday.

 

July 7

My 7yo finally found something to keep her busy and semi-quiet.

She’s making her Christmas list.

 

June 21

I’ve reached the point of summer vacation where I’m questioning all my reasons for not sending the kids to summer camp.

I was worried about so many of the horrible things you hear about, and I said no, no, no.

Right now, I’m considering sending them into the woods to live off the land and saying, “See you in August.”

 

June 14

WHOTHAFU–

–What I yelled at the cabinet upon realizing someone had switched a can of carrots with a can of green beans so you couldn’t even SEE the damn corn.

THE CANNED FOOD IN THIS HOUSE GOES IN THE APPROPRIATE ROW GODDAMMIT.

p.s. I know this was done on purpose, and I’ve narrowed my suspects to two.

 

June 10

Me: I can’t believe how stupid this medicine is making me.

Husband: You’re sharp as a tack.

Me:…

Husband: Okay, but you’re not stupid. I’d say… “muddled.”

Me: *laughs forever*

 

June 6

I just walked into the hall closet instead of the bathroom, but caught myself before I peed on the towels.

That means the new meds are working, right?

(I’m not sure if my friend E. meant for her comment to be funny, but I found it hilarious. She said, “We can only hope.” I feel like she was sighing and shaking her head, like omg, that girl. I love it. And her.)

 

May 31

You guys know that I’m a list-maker. I have all these lists of things that I want done, and the things never get done. (Possibly because I don’t do them. Just a guess.)

About once a week I make a NEW list, with all the things from the OLD list that didn’t happen.

Of course, the things like ‘dishes’ and ‘laundry’ are recurring and infuriating, but I usually also find rants and nonsense that I have no memory of writing.

Highlights from last week’s lists:

1. Call fucking insurance.
2. Call fucking insurance AGAIN.
3. Throw up.

(I really hate phone calls.)

4. Yard sale shit.
5. Camping shit.
6. Be calm.
7. Cry.
8. Fucking gnats.
9. Move shit.
10. *something scribbled out with the words “No, fuck that” written next to it.*

 

May 15

I accidentally grabbed a sports bra instead of underwear on my way to the bathroom.

Rather than walk the 10 steps back to get actual underwear, I stared at the bra from different angles, wondering if I could make it work.

It not only worked, but there is a handy strap left free that I’m sure could be utilized for something.

Patent pending.

 

May 6

This morning I caught my cat drinking my coffee. I pushed him off the table and said a not nice thing.

I debated going to get a new cup, but I am lazy and was tired so I decided to risk it.

Also I heard somewhere that a dog’s mouth is cleaner than a human’s. Dogs and cats are both pets. This makes perfect sense.

So I took a sip of the coffee. It tasted okay until I looked over at the cat, who was diligently licking his asshole while staring right at me.

I haven’t come up with a suitable revenge, mainly because I’m not very flexible and I would never lick my asshole, even to prove a point.

 

Guys, this is silly, but I have tears in my eyes. I just basically regurgitated my fb posts into a blog post, but IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE HERE. Thanks for being here too. xoxox

*If you happen to be a mind reader: There’s nothing to see here. Move along.


How Low Can You Go (Before Your Husband Hires a Maid)

 

Pretty fucking low, it seems.

Before I had my third child I was somewhat anal took housecleaning very seriously. After Thing 3 was born and I went back to working fulltime, I realized that either I was going to have to lower my standards or I was going to go insane.

But I’m an overachiever, so I did both.

Somewhere along the line, I signed up for emails from The Organised Housewife.  Originally, I suppose I wanted to get these daily reminders to help me stay on top of shit.  Now I use them to make me laugh.  Like, ha-ha, motherfucker, no.

Everyday I get an email from them and they seem insanely helpful, if I cared anymore.  But I am so far past caring that sometimes when I read an email that says, “pick one cabinet and organize it” I just want to go and throw all the things all around until there isn’t even a cabinet.

Yes.  I believe I did mention that I’m also on the crazy train.

I’ve always been a list maker.  When my husband worked fulltime and I stayed at home with the kids, I would make lists so that he could see what all I’d accomplished that day and he would know that even though I was still in the same 3 day old pajamas he left me in, I HAD BEEN DOING STUFF.  Important stuff, like sanitizing the microwave.  I’m not even totally sure where my microwave is located at this moment.  My how things have changed.

Anyway, I still make lists, but instead of long lists of things I want to accomplish in a day, I make lists of things I’ve already done. Here are some sample lists from my ever-present notebook:

1. Get out of bed.

2. Write.

3. Eat.

4. Feed cats.

5. Read internet.

6. Maybe do some laundry. Just wash.

7. Maybe dry the laundry you might’ve washed.

8. Throw clean laundry in a pile.

Notice the list doesn’t say “feed children.” Because even I remember that without writing it down.  Because they constantly ask for food.  All day, every day.

Here’s one titled “Things I am Currently Not Fucking Up”

1. Taking me time.

2. Writing.

3. Kids.

4. Marriage.

another list, titled “Things I am Currently Fucking Up”

1. Everything else.

I’ve been doing really good at writing things on my list that are easy, so I can look at my list at the end of the day and know that I’ve been productive.  It’s really easy to be productive when you use this system.  Shit, I may as well start my own email reminder.

“Good morning, fellow lazy asses. Today’s chore is to add a banana to your ice cream. Yes, I said a goddamned banana split. We CAN DO THIS!”

Or

“Good morning, sweethearts. Today we’re all going to take a moment to remember how awesome we are.  This moment will last approximately 2 hours and is otherwise known as a nap. Enjoy.”

I could really get into this.  I’m like a damned guru.  I will teach you ALL THE THINGS!

So, are you a list-maker? Is your house spotless or spotty? Would you call yourself organized?  Does it bother you that organized is spelled with a Z and an S within this post? 

 

 

 


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