Thursday, March 28, 2013

A Low Point



As part of the remodel being done at my work, a couple weeks ago they were painting.

Background story: Last time I was exposed to paint for an extended amount of time I broke out into a horrible purple rash and, in an attempt to get rid of it, my mom made me go sit outside with these giant 80’s biking sunglasses on for an entire day. Not sure how the sunglasses were supposed to help, but I was desperate enough to try anything at that point. I guess I should mention that the next day was my very first day of high school. And sitting outside with giant 80’s biking sunglasses did not help.

With that lovely story in mind, let’s fast forward to the painting project that was happening at my work. Needless to say, sitting there sniffing paint fumes 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, I was not a happy camper. Thankfully I did not get a repeat of the horrible purple rash (though I did get a giant hive under my left eye), but I did get a nasty splitting headache every day that I sat in that smell.  Nothing worked to ventilate the smell either. I even left the door to the office building open for an entire day, but I eventually had to close it because people kept wandering in from off the street asking me to throw away stuff…or give them a job.

Anyway. One of those days I left work with a horrible headache. And I was not in a happy mood. And I needed to go to the store because we were out of bread. And I still had a giant hive under my left eye.  Reluctantly and painfully, I found a parking spot 5000 miles away from the store because it is always super crowded at 5 pm, and I drug myself inside over to the bread section, hoping to be able to just swipe some Grandma Sycamore bread and run home to my giant luv sac and some Harry Potter.  

Unfortunately, I was delayed by a girl on her phone blocking my Grandma Sycamore with both her body and her cart, and, to make it even worse, she apparently though that wearing leggings as pants is an okay thing to do. I literally stood there, hatefully analyzing every lump and bit of cottage cheese on her rear end that was accented by her slightly see-through, way-too-tight legging things that she thought were pants. The angle of her cart made it impossible for me to reach my bread, and I didn’t think I could handle human interaction without exploding. So I just stood there, glaring, while my eye-hive throbbed with loathing. I imagine I looked like some sort of rabid wild animal. I’m sure she thought that I was crazy.

Eventually she realized I was there, gave me the up-down, and left. Needless to say I snatched my bread and got out of there like the wind.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Fun Facts You Probably Never Wanted to Know


Of course I had to write something sappy about my man on our anniversary, but now I will write a few things we have learned about each other in the last two years. 

1. Al, coming from an all-boys family, has finally accepted that I cannot get ready for anything as fast as him. It was initially very shocking to him that it takes me longer than 5 minutes to shower, wash my hair, and shave my legs. Luckily, after realizing that my legs are literally half my body and my hair is 20x longer than his (my head hair that is, not leg hair…usually), I think he is beginning to accept this.

2. I cut Al’s toenails for him. Gross? Probably. I actually hate feet, so it must really show my love for him that I tolerate his. Really I do it because he had a habit of cutting them into points and I got sick of him scratching me with them at night.

3. I have a suspicion that this is true with many husbands, but even though Al and I live in the same house, he somehow has no ability to recollect where anything goes. Not that he doesn’t put anything away, he is actually probably neater than me, but every week after we do the laundry I have to go show him where his clean jeans are in his drawer. The same drawer they are in all the time.  The same rule applies for anything in the kitchen.

4. I was pretty na├»ve getting married in March…I apparently didn’t realize what a big deal March Madness is. Al was pretty good at abstaining from watching basketball 24/7 just after we got married, but at one year in I knew I was doomed into watching at least 3 games a day on and around our anniversary. Good thing I do enjoy sports (in small doses) when I get sick of it we have learned to go our separate ways and I end up watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch on Hulu while Al’s beloved teams are playing.

5. Poor Al didn’t know what he was getting himself into when it came to my hair. I have to admit he takes it pretty well when he always has to unclog drains and finds strands of hair in his salad. I like to tell him when he is at work and finds my hair in his beard that I’m just marking my territory. 

6. I have realized that although he seems all mature and responsible on the surface, he is definitely a kid at heart...like a let's-go-build-a-snow fort-in-this-blizzard sort of kid at heart.


That's Why He's My Man


As a belated anniversary post, I figured I would write all about how I have a pretty dang awesome husband, so if you are not into super cute/mushy posts, I invite you to stop reading here. I will give you a less mushy version of our life after. Promise.

Number one:  Al takes care of me. We avoided getting sick for most of the winter, but sadly that came to an end a few weeks ago when we both developed a nasty sort of lung gunk cold. Somehow this affected me more than him (or maybe I’m just a whiner), and one night I could NOT for the life of me stop coughing. I kept having dreams that I needed to cough, so I just kept coughing and coughing…it was horrible.  Just when I was getting ready to rip my throat out, poor Al, who of course could not sleep through the noise, got up and made me some herbal tea. He then made me a little bed in our living room so I could watch something to get my mind off of my throat problems, put Harry Potter on for me (he knows how Harry Potter just makes me so happy), and even still came out to sleep next to me so I wouldn’t be alone.

Number two: Al makes me laugh. Here’s a fun fact you may or may not know about Al: he likes to make up songs…and has some pretty legit dance moves. Here’s another fun fact: he is pretty much tone deaf (although, he’s been practicing, and has improved greatly since we’ve been married).  Whenever I am being a grump Al breaks out into a song about how I’m being a grump and ads his own (quite impressive) dance moves.  He gets so enthusiastic about it I just can’t help but laugh. Someday I hope to get a video of this, but he stops immediately whenever I get out any form of recording device, so for now you will have to take my word for it. Although this picture makes me laugh too:



Number three: We make a good team. We make such a good team, that we should get jerseys (like that one song says…).  Seriously though, I know we look absolutely nothing alike, but we are both just the right amount of 1st grade humor, and stubbornness to make it work. So glad I married this guy:


Monday, March 4, 2013

Special


At work we are doing a little (huge) remodel. I get to sit in a big open area with no doors or heat that is directly in the construction zone. Literally I come home covered in dust every day, in fact I probably shouldn’t drive because my contacts are pretty much coated white when I take them out….

Anyway, not only am I getting what I think is the black lung from inhaling so much sheet rock dust, but because random people are coming in and out so much, I’ve begun talking to all the construction guys in grunts:

Guy walks in

Him: nod of the head

Me: grunt (meaning hello)

Me (in my head to myself): really? Did you just grunt?

Guy walks out to go to lunch

Him: nod of the head

Me: grunt in acknowledgment that he exists

Me (in head to self): Really? I just did that again? K, next time I will really make an effort to use my words

Guy walks back in

Him: nod of the head

Me: try to say hi, but it gets stuck in my throat on the way out and sounds like a boy in puberty grunting.

I then gave up and went for a half closed-mouth smile that probably makes me look like a socially awkward pre teen on the verge of crying.
  
I imagine it looks something like this:







The end.