It strikes me that I have been sort of negative of late.
I'm really not sure what to say about it- snarkiness is just in my nature. Love it or leave it. I have tried to trancend it, and it doesn't work.
Dad: (tiling countertops) This is all screwed up!!!! (assorted profanity)
Me: No! It'll be fine!
Me: Think sunshine and puppies! Keebler Elves! Lollipops! Incense and peppermints!
Dad: You have no idea how close you are to death at this moment.
See? It's hereditary.
When life gives you lemons-
The Man was not exactly on my good list today. I woke up around 9AM to find that he was playing video games in his underwear. I decided that if he could spend his morning in his Calvins, I should definitely spend mine reading Diana Gabaldon instead of say, washing the dishes. (Forget a dance-off! Let's have...a slack-off!)
Around 11AM, I lost the slack-off, and wandered in to check on him. He promptly closed the computer screen, and said something sweet about how he was thinking, he should make me a meal one of these days, and how about lunch today? He will let me know when lunch is served.
This was a turn-up for the books! Pacified, I went back to A Breath of Snow and Ashes.
I looked up at the clock at noon, and again at one. My stomach started to rumble. At two, I cruised past the computer room. No sign of movement, no sign of lunch. Rather than make it an issue, I nuked myself some soup and sulked in silence.
He emerged from the office at three, just in time for both of us to get ready for work. No mention of lunch, no apology. This has been happening a lot, and I am getting sick of it.
I took the passive aggressive approach of changing into a cute new outfit with my sexiest heels and my red red lipstick, complete with a glare that evidently seared the gizzard out of him, because he was suspiciously silent when he left.
Meanwhile, I re-did a few buttons on my black satin blouse and went out to tutor an eight-year-old boy, who would be completely unappreciative. His mom was impressed, and I had to make up a lie about going out for dinner later so as not to look like a dork.
The Man did call later to say "I'm sorry for being a jerk. My co-worker, Justin wants to say something to you." Um, okay.
Justin: "Your husband said you were mad, and he told me what he did, and I told him he was being a stupid puto!"
Me: "Well...um, thanks!"
Justin: "No prob. Bye!!!"
The Man: "See? I'm really sorry."
Me: "Apology accepted. Tell Justin I give him mad props."
I went to Trader Joe's today, at 5PM.
If you are having issues with wanting kids and kids aren't happening?
Well, there is no good time to go to Trader Joe's, unless it's like an hour before closing time. But 5PM would have to be the worst, because the place is literally filthy with harried moms and their kids. I am not exaggerating, there were three brand new poppin' fresh babies in there, and a few more around the 6-9 month mark.
Those are actually the worst, because they are interactive, and goddamn it, they never fail to look at me with their big round eyes. Their downy little vulnerable heads swivel to watch me as I pass. They smile gummy grins, coo, peer at me, fascinated.
Maybe they do it to everyone, but I doubt it, because it seems to make their mothers nervous or jealous because THEIR BABY IS LOOKING AT SOMEONE ELSE. I have discussed the phenom with people I know, and they seem to feel that it's because I am sparkly and wearing red lipstick, whereas a newly delivered mother gnerally is happy if she got a chance to shower that week. I am sure that Laura Bennett's new baby wouldn't give me a second glance- he's seen it before.
Anyway. Having a nervous breakdown in the pasta aisle was not on my list of things to do today, but it was a struggle to avoid it. I choked it down, forced a smile onto my face, and forced myself to hold my head up. I was a woman on a mission! A mission for inner peace! And also, some Marinara sauce.
So I straightened up, threw on the most brilliant smile in the old arsenal, and somehow accidentally locked eyes with some guy. Evidently he decided that we had some kind of moment, because he started staring at me.
I am sure the thought process was, "She smiled and looked at me! Do I know her?" Either that, or, "Hehehe...She WANTS me." Either way, he looked completely flabbergasted, like I had given him a saucy wink and then flashed my bra at him.
I immediately averted my eyes and started loading brown rice and lentils into my cart. Evidently, he did not collect himself right away. I turned around to head out of the aisle, just in time to see his wife poke him viciously in the ribs.