Lately I have been feeling vaguely uneasy.
I don't know what it is. I just keep on second guessing every thing I do. Even little things. I'll approach an intersection feeling anxious thinking "is that light going to turn red before I have a chance to apply my brakes?" or "Is that green car going to slow down? Or should I just yield to him?, just to be on the safe side of things. But then the will the car behind me be angry for slowing down?" And I just can't seem to shake it.
So of course I have decided that I need to do SOMETHING to address my unease, and that something, obviously, is going to be shopping. I have heard from people in the biz. (OK- my mom) that the Slap Chop is available at Zellers, so I plan on going and securing one immediately (while supplies last!!). The only unfortunate thing is that it doesn't come with the Graty, as it does if you order from the TV. But I can do without the Graty.
But in the meantime, I will be slapping and chopping like there's no tomorrow.
That, somehow, sounds vaguely sexual, which is weird because you wouldn't think that "chopping" would sound sexual in any context, ever. Unless you were Ted Bundy . Or slapping for that matter. God what is wrong with me??
Perhaps everything sounds vaguely sexual to me because of...
For example: my husband. Last night he had to work late, so whatevs. I'm cool with that. No big deal. It is, after all, parent teacher interview night, but no worries. I can handle it. I'll just go and pick up the kids at 5:30, go home, cook supper, feed the kids, tidy up, get things packed up and ready to go for 6:30, go to Paytons interview and try (somehow) to keep Alex out of everything in the classroom, wrap things up there and go to Gage's interview at 8:00, hoping that Alex will continue to be cooperative, return home for 8:30, give the kids a bath, change Alex and Payton into their PJs, fix them a quick snack, put Alex down, read with Payton, brush her teeth and put her to bed.
So then my husband comes in at ten pm looking for sympathy from me for his long,hard day at work.
I was like 'SCREW YOU asshole. Have you ever had to change a writhing sixteen month old baby on a gymnasium floor? Well I have. And it blows. And have you ever had said same sixteen month old shrieking loudly because he wants to pull down every single book off a shelf, and every other item as well, while we're at it, while you're trying to intelligently discuss the PRIME math teaching model and have a five year old whining in your ear that "this is boring, I want to go home," all at the very same time, while simultaneously carrying: four coats, a monkey blanky, a folder full of Paytons kindergarten art work (which includes, incidentally, a life size self portrait of herself), a purse/makeshift diaper bag, a baggie full of cheerios and a sippee cup, which has incidentally, sprung a hereto now unknown leak .
And incidentally, I remind him, he has happened to have had to "work late" on every SINGLE parent teacher interview that I have EVER EVER gone to, either by accident or design, and I'm beginning to suspect design, by the way. To which he gets all in a huff and comments that if he had to choose between a little tete a tete with a teacher and serving 160 SaskTel employees, he would choose the tete a tete no problem, a 'walk in the park' it would be, compared to the rigors of doing whatever, precisely, he does at work, which is mainly PR stuff, with roughly translated means: hanging out with the members of the old boys club.
AND THEN, can you believe it?? As if it wasn't already enough.
He starts in about the garbage.
And I said "OH, I'm so very sorry that I didn't have the time to do the garbage. I guess I should have done that while I was cooking dinner with a baby on my hip. Perhaps I could have also found the time to paint the fence and sodder a few pipes."
Of course, I have no idea what soddering is, and I realize I've probably spelled it wrong here. But still. You get my point, of course.
I just really, really get annoyed.
So this morning when I got to work I found myself regretting that I went into nursing at all. The only other people I see all day are women, so of course, that takes having an affair right out of the equation at all.
I found myself wishing that I gone into something entirely male dominated, like lumber jacking or something.
Although lumber jacking seems like a bit of a tough job.
The slivers and such.
And to be honest, if I was going to take up an affair, I'm not sure that a lumberjack is the way I would go neccessarily.
Anyways. I was surprised to see the other day a male nursing student happened to present himself for a clinical rotation.
But I couldn't get past his boots.
He was wearing these really pointy, alligator skin like boots, and I just, I don' t know. I couldn't get past it.
Well that and the fact that he's also married.
And his wife just had a baby, literally, yesterday. A girl.
Oh well. Life goes on.
Such as it is.