I Pretty Much Predicted the President Two Years Ago So Why Do I Need a Job?

I spent all weekend cleaning, which is what I know normal moms and wives do in their free time, but for me it had obvious deep psychological reasons since I HATE to clean. I just needed something in my life to be in order or I felt I was going to lose my freaking mind. As if looming unemployment weren’t enough, both Chris and Savannah have been sick for a week resulting in fevers, puking, and my-god-make-it-stop-or-I’m-going-to-start-punching-babies coughing.

Following the startling experience of witnessing my husband projectile vomit while alternating between moans of “oh God” and “Jesus Christ” between each heave, I’ve now had an entire week of a chorus of coughing. All day and all night. No matter what we’re doing, no matter where we’re going, no matter what time it is, there’s the coughing. It’s like a Dr. Seuss book.

I like to cough in a boat.
I like to cough with a goat.

I like to cough with you at the grocery store.
I like to cough through the entire episode of The Bachelor.

I like to cough in my underwear.

I like to cough in your hair.

Except instead of freakish gangly furry Seuss-people they’re pitiful coughing adorable my-people whose backs I rub in the middle of the night and whose lungs I will to clear and grant a full breath. See, I’m not a complete bitch.

But, back to the cleaning. I rid my office of anything that wasn’t worth dusting every week 3 months and made neat little rows of file folders and stacks of envelopes, and categorized photos I took of myself back when I had time to just lounge around all day taking pictures of myself and complaining to the internet about how hard it is to take care of ONE CHILD WHILE MY HUSBAND WORKS FROM HOME AND DID I MENTION I DIDN’T GET UP BEFORE 8:00AM? (I swear, if I ever meet the 28 year old me, I'm going to kick her ass. IF I'M NOT TOO TIRED FROM HAVING A JOB.)

I didn't find anything of too much interest in my purging except my notebook of writing ideas from 2007 where I had scribbled a quote about children being useful and attributed it to one Barack Obama (heard of him?). You'd have thought my pancake was in the shape of his face the way I gasped and blinked hard twice. I had no idea who Barack Obama was in 2007, so it was downright chilling to unknowingly quote the future president.

What am I, some kind of wizard? I wondered.

Then I rushed into the bathroom to interrupt Chris' shower to look! look at what I wrote in 2007! except Chris was all and? and I was like I didn't even know who he was then! But, Chris was unimpressed and dared to suggest that I heard it in the primaries or something and I was, like, it was two thousand and SEVEN, it wasn't during the primaries. But, he just kept rinsing his hair completely oblivious he had just witnessed a miracle. Or at least a well timed quote from the March '07 issue of O magazine as it later turned out. But, still.

Anyway, once I was done with the office I started on Savannah's room and cleared it of all her toys and dolls and moved those to my office/playroom to clear the way for her “big girl stuff” like make up and jewelry. As I explained to Chris, she’s at that age now - seven - where she needs her space to keep her pretty things neat and organize her accessories and have a vanity to, you know, be vain and experiment with make up and jewelry and nail polish and feel pretty and girly and it’s very important to her feminine development that we give her this space to do this because I think otherwise she’ll grow up to be a lesbian. I’m pretty sure that’s how it works. Chris wasn't convinced.

So, after cleaning up our crap, I felt much more organized and a little more in control of my life. Despite the fact that as I stood there surveying my tidiness I, of course, thought “Well, this should make it that much easier to pack when we’re evicted”.

Then I had a glass of wine and settled in to watch a new episode of Jon & Kate Plus 8, which would have been relaxing except it was about them buying an insanely ginormous new house and all I could focus on was the fact that these freaking people were able to buy a ginormous new house because I’m sitting here watching this stupid show about them moving into their ginormous new house like a dumbass instead of working on ways to get my own ginormous new house.

And then that made me feel mad and used. But, also a little clever.

So clever that I ended up finishing off the bottle of wine while Chris and I watched movies (W and The Changeling – both I highly recommend). But then of course Chris has to go and start a fight with me - as he's apt to do whenever I drink - while we were going to bed because he suggested that maybe my throbbing headache might be caused by the three glasses of wine I drank and not my new multi-vitamin.


I blame it on the fact that his boss popped into his office the other day – 36 days before his official last day BUT WHO’S COUNTING – and advised him that they "might be keeping some employees on" and did he “want to be in the mix?”.

First of all, what the hell is “The Mix” and second of all, yes, please God, yes.

So, that's where we stand. Chris may be on his way to his new career in making mix tapes and I am bitter that I don't have 7 more kids that I can exploit for profit.

 photo copyright.jpg
envye template.