I find Sunday’s one of the most boring days of the week. I find that often Sunday is the day I have no ambition to do anything; I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to talk to anyone, want to do absolutely nothing. It’s been reoccurring for quite a while now.
Today I was forced to get up by Mike; 7am he’s nudging me and pushing me telling me that I have to get up now. Funny how the weeks that he works 6 days the Sundays are sacred, quite and leavemethehellalone days. Me? Nope. I have to get up. I am never allowed to sleep in anymore. *If* there is a Saturday morning that he gets up with Carter, they both come in the room and wake me. Mike encourages Carter to jump on the bed and land on me. I am so excited that he’s teaching our 15 month old child these antics. I am the furthest thing from a morning person. I will bite your head off and shit down your throat if you wake me up – especially like that, but seeing that it’s not Carter’ fault – he doesn’t know any different – I am just pissed. It affects the remainder of the day too. I’m just bitchy and mean, and that’s more then normal.
So I am very antisocial on Sundays. I worked yesterday through a Strategic Panning Session and was really looking forward to a selfishly peaceful day, which apparently has been forbidden.
Mike then invited my family over for dinner tonight. My dad and stepmom, my brother and his girlfriend; all great people, I cherish them all … just not when I have no ambition to host people, let alone even socialize with them. Just not today.
To top it all off, Mike’s created this concoction that’s supposed to be a chicken casserole. He’s a great cook – normally; but the look and smell of this thing he’s preparing has already turned me off food for the rest of the day. I really think he’s trying to kill them off slowly.
Maybe if I’m lucky they will walk in and be greeted by this stench aroma in our kitchen only to fall ill and leave.
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