Laziness becomes her
On our bookshelf in the living room – in plain sight – sits a clock. I love this clock. It’s from Ikea. That means it’s awesome by default. However, this clock has needed to have its battery changed for, oh, I don’t know, a few months maybe? It still runs, but it is about 10 minutes behind. Wait, 9. 9 minutes. I just looked up at it. That’s how obvious of a location its at.
Now, sure, right now I could get up, grab a battery and change it. But really? I just got comfortable, the kids are sleeping, and I had finally talked myself into getting a blanket since my right foot was cold. I’m actually able to feel that foot again. I like that feeling. So I’m just going to sit here and think about how I could be done by now with the battery change had I of changed it when I first sat down.
The clock in the kitchen’s battery has been dead for a long time now. Still haven’t changed that one, either.
It’s pretty simple around here. I have my chores and limits as does Matt. He’s responsible for the garbage and recycling, making sure the dog has food and the cats’ litter boxes are scooped, and pretty much anything that falls under the category of “icky.”
Me, I do the vacuuming, the mopping, the bathroom cleaning, and the cooking. He doesn’t go into my territory and I don’t touch his. But here, with the whole battery changing thing, it seems to not be black and white, but rather grey territory.
Matt’s not lazy. He has a hard time with relaxing half the time. Any time there’s a light bulb out, it’s fixed as soon as he notices it. Dog dish dry? He fills it. Book out of place on the book shelf? He fixes it.
Now, I know he’s noticed the clock. And here’s where I wonder what’s really going on. From time to time, Matt likes to play these games with me. For example he’ll fold the laundry and put his away, but stack mine on top of the dresser. And it’ll sit there…and sit there…and sit there… And sure, I’ll put a few things away at a time, but not the whole shebang. I mean, I wear the same crap every day. Why put it away? But he’ll leave it there until he can’t stand it anymore. And it’ll all be in drawers after a few days.
Sometimes he’ll just throw things away, too. So then a few weeks later, I’ll ask him, “Hey, did you see…” and he’ll say, “Yup. Right before I threw it in the trash.”
So I’m wondering to myself, is he playing another game with me? Is he waiting to see how long he can hold out before it drives him absolutely crazy? Because if I know him like I do, every day he looks at it, it probably shaves off about 2 days of his life. Quite possibly 3.
Meh, I don’t really care. I know that when I look at the clock and it says 8:40, I know that it’s in fact 8:50ish and it’s time For Claire to go to bed. That’s all that matters.
In other news, I only have 9 weeks left before I can end the suspense and find out if this is a girl or a boy. With Claire and Luca, I didn’t really care. This time, it’s not so much that I care, I’m just curious. I had names picked out for both genders with both kids. This time…not so much. We kinda have a boy name picked out, but, you know…it’s something that they’re going to be named forever. Is that the name I really, really want it to be named?
This pregnancy, by far, has gone faster than any other one I’ve had. I think the holidays have a lot to do with it. Once New Years is over, then I have a feeling time will stand still. Then I’ll be at the 34 week mark. That’s when the ribs hurt, the breathing sucks, and the baby wants to come out, but knows it can’t yet – still it’ll punch and kick and beat my bladder to a pulp to prove a point.
And I’ll love every second of it.