A discovery and a confession

I am a childish, selfish person sometimes.

Well, a lot of the time, if I'm being honest.

On my weight loss/health blog, I talked about making lists for myself. Chore charts, goals, the whole shebang. (as I'm writing here, I'm also realizing that I have quite the post for there brewing, too... watch out, Blogger, Stuart's got duty, and Amber's on a writing binge!) Excellent intentions, realistic goals, yet this morning I woke to a filthy kitchen, and I'm not dressed and it's 1:00 pm.

The not being dressed thing is fine. It's Saturday. The dirty kitchen? Ew. Starts the whole day off on the wrong foot. Want to know WHY my kitchen was dirty? My husband was home yesterday. I wish that fact implied that I was too busy in the throes of passion to even consider loading the dishwasher and wiping the cabinets.

The interesting fact is that it is 1:00 pm and the kitchen is clean, laundry is going, Logan's had a bath. Oh, and my darling husband is at work. What's the difference?

Well, while my knight in shining armor sat in the man cave yesterday, perusing Craigslist, wishing that he could afford a motorcycle or 1978 Camaro to fix up, I sat on my butt. I knew chores needed to be done, but I'll be damned if I'm going to get up and do something while HE sits and relaxes.

Real grown up, right?

So today, I get to make up for it. Ugh. Sometimes I really am amazed at my childishness.

For Amber and Katie

Me too.

We evacuated to Alexandria last time, and whateverthatonewas came right toward us! I told the man that I wasn't evacuating again. He told me oh yes, I was. This should be fun. Lots and lots of fun.

*big sigh*

To Amber.

Word.

What the heck, dude. It's coming right for both of us.

I could do without this hurricane nonsense. Florida is officially off the table in the future. Not that it was ever *on* the table, but now I'm vindicated in my badmouthing and suffering the bad karma that comes with talking you know what.

I'm not touching you

You know that sibling backseat of the car annoyance?  The finger pointed directly at you, spiraling mere fractions of an inch from your skin/book/jacket?  My insides feel like a big ol' "I'm not touching you" victim.

Hurricane - go away.  Don't come back.  You're not welcome here.  Ever.

Headache - see above.  I cannot function as a mom, much less human when I cannot bear light, sound, or quick movements.

Ah, and here's a little known fact:

A night off does not actually constitute a night "off" when I return to every dish in the house filthy and cluttering the counters and sink.  Especially when the next day is duty day.

I need a big ol' ray of good somewhere.  Where's my curly red-haired wig and shaggy dog when I need 'em?

Swear needs an update.

A small one, at least.

Here's my beef for the day. I'm a west-coaster. I don't enjoy hurricane season looming over my head. I think Ed Hardy shirts are tacky,and I'm not too jazzed about having to come within 3 feet of some people to determine whether or not they are homeless. I'm spending 3 times as much as is normal on groceries, and I am so far from home it's not even funny.

The upside:

I've been planted here, and so I bloom accordingly.
I'm in touch with the Kumu Hula starting the new keiki halau, because I WILL be back in Honolulu in the next few years.
I'm tough as all get out.

My husband wants to retire to San Sebastian. I guess he'll cook and I'll teach English. Can we pass as Basque?