I Don't Want to Break His Fingers...
... but I totally will if Omar doesn't stop poking at me.
Here's the thing about my husband. As much as I love him, he also annoys the living shit of me sometimes. He'll either talk endlessly while I'm trying to read or write or he'll keep poking at me with his foot or his finger or whatever while I'm trying to type. I know he just wants attention and affection, but it drives me up a goddamn wall.
Our new place has only hardwood floors or a laminate version of them. I'm not sure which yet. But at the other place, it was carpeted and he would sit on the floor so he could stretch out. The floor here isn't comfortable so we're sharing the couch. Which is only sort of working. It works fine when we're watching tv or a movie and want to cuddle. Not so much when I want to sit here and write and be left alone. Driving me batty.
Plus, he's doing weight watchers with me now so every time he puts something in his mouth he asks me questions. I'm glad he's doing the program with me because he does need to lose some weight and this, I think, is the safest option for him. And he's kind of adorable because he's taking it so seriously. (Well, he's always adorable, but that's besides the point) But sometimes I want to tell him to BE QUIET so I can think.
It doesn't help that we have boxes everywhere still and that 95% of my clothing and personal effects are still in boxes. So are his. He's been really good and patient, but every time we want to find something it becomes a freaking scavenger hunt. So annoying.
I'm trying to be good about the hellmouth, but I still hate it. There is literally no privacy in this place. None. I can't even surf the web without Omar looking over my shoulder. He's not being nosy, but there's no place for us to be apart. And as much as I love him and love spending time with him, I also need some alone time too.
Red Sox are kicking the Yankees' fucking asses tonight. I think Jon Lester might be my new baseball boyfriend. I seriously love him right now.
Here's the thing about my husband. As much as I love him, he also annoys the living shit of me sometimes. He'll either talk endlessly while I'm trying to read or write or he'll keep poking at me with his foot or his finger or whatever while I'm trying to type. I know he just wants attention and affection, but it drives me up a goddamn wall.
Our new place has only hardwood floors or a laminate version of them. I'm not sure which yet. But at the other place, it was carpeted and he would sit on the floor so he could stretch out. The floor here isn't comfortable so we're sharing the couch. Which is only sort of working. It works fine when we're watching tv or a movie and want to cuddle. Not so much when I want to sit here and write and be left alone. Driving me batty.
Plus, he's doing weight watchers with me now so every time he puts something in his mouth he asks me questions. I'm glad he's doing the program with me because he does need to lose some weight and this, I think, is the safest option for him. And he's kind of adorable because he's taking it so seriously. (Well, he's always adorable, but that's besides the point) But sometimes I want to tell him to BE QUIET so I can think.
It doesn't help that we have boxes everywhere still and that 95% of my clothing and personal effects are still in boxes. So are his. He's been really good and patient, but every time we want to find something it becomes a freaking scavenger hunt. So annoying.
I'm trying to be good about the hellmouth, but I still hate it. There is literally no privacy in this place. None. I can't even surf the web without Omar looking over my shoulder. He's not being nosy, but there's no place for us to be apart. And as much as I love him and love spending time with him, I also need some alone time too.
Red Sox are kicking the Yankees' fucking asses tonight. I think Jon Lester might be my new baseball boyfriend. I seriously love him right now.
posted by Lucy Starr @ 9:41 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home