My Life is Average

It's really embarrassing to have those pictures of me, so I need to post something else. Since my life is average and boring to the outside, I know you'll be interested if I tell you about my day.

The alarm probably goes off twice, 10 minute intervals (oh yes I'm going back this far). Then Mr Smith's alarm goes off a few more times outside of that and is the most obnoxious noise you'll ever hear, outside of the one time our neighbor's alarm clock wouldn't shut off up above us. Apparently he got in the shower and forgot about it. I hated him and made Mr Smith turn on the fan so I could get my last half hour of sleep. Any way, back to today, we both struggle to get on our feet and always toy with the idea of going in late. Okay, Mr Smith can do that, I toy with the idea of never going in . . . ever again. But alas we do. We get up, he walks to the bus stop. I get in my car and slam on breaks every other mile. Work is work and after I whine a little and have a completely busy, anticlimatical, and insignificant-who-cares-what-I-do work day, I come home. It's a little better than that, but I'd rather be somewhat melodramatic, it helps ease the pain. Not like my mother in her hatred for Obama, which is what the phone conversation consisted of on my trip home. Not quite, but close.

Mr Smith calls me to tell me not to stay so late at work. He knows I'm attached. It's really just my OCD that forces me to have everything in order before I leave for the day. I'm always after some sort of closure. I come home and I'm alone. So I pittle-paddle around the house. Is that the phrase? Any way, what did I do . . . check my email, think about not making dinner, turned on CNN (not on the TV cause we don't have one of those), and yeah I guess wasted life until Mr Smith walked in and gave it all back to me.

Serious gag. I mean but it's pretty much true. So then he gets productive and takes the whites down to the washer. Oh-how-I-love-him. We go back and forth about dinner and I'm just too freakin excited we can watch the debate live that I thought my indifference was acceptable. I make fried potatoes cause I didn't want mashed potatoes. So we both make potatoes for dinner and I get one bite of his chicken breast I was too lazy to make for myself. I'm actually trying to go on a I-don't-need-meat-every-day diet. I feel like it's stupid so it'll end soon. 1 day. As as soon as I can afford all the meat I want. I then decided to make chocolate chip cookies. My third attempt during our marriage. Still not good enough for him to eat. Mr Smith: "I didn't think you were going to put cocoa in them." Seriously, he's impossible.

He says he just wants regular cc cookies. I just make myself fat. Anyone want cookies? I don't even know if the dough will get eaten this time. What's a wife to do with a husband with such an over simplistic- let's not eat anything outside of vanilla - attitude. Granted, my first batch of cookies were horrible. Turned into instant sand in your mouth.

So I enjoyed my cookies and we both enjoyed the republican debate. So fun to hear your hometown mentioned. We hate Newt, given. Seriously, who names their kid that? I thought I would like Santorum. He has said some good words, but I felt disappointed actually watching him for the first time. I think Mitt did great and I think Ron made the audience laugh. I'd probably choose the last to be in on the meetings, but I don't think he's President ready. Not that I know who is (but I guess by elimination I am sold to the businessman), you have to be a fool to want that position.

So now Mr Smith is finally writing his written piece on 1 Nephi Chp 12- something for the ward bulletin. I love how he puts things off to the last minute and turns his wife into a nag.  And I thought since he was typing, I'd say a few words to get my ugly pictures further down the screen. His words, not mine. They make me laugh. He is used to being embarrassed by me at this point. I am going to go spend the rest of my quiet hours reading now. I love you dear readers terribly. You are better people than myself. You probably didn't even read this whole thing. I'm talking to myself and my parents. Oh goody.