Some Days are Tough Like That

Yesterday was a blur. Some days are tough like that–tough and ugly. Running up and down, sideways before the satellite TV guy arrived. But so has this whole week so far—been tough and ugly. Leggy.

Why, why, why must some days be difficult and others not so difficult? I guess the answer is easy: that we won’t appreciate the good days if all our days were good ones.

I would. I promise.

I don’t like my house when it’s messy. Seeing things scattered about or dirt wafting along the floor sends me to another dimension. It’s just the way I’m wired.

So, when the satellite TV guy was scheduled between (no lie) noon and 4 PM, I figured I had some time before then to get organized, straighten and vacuum.

But then Bob came home. The walking tornado. He dropped his sippy cup on the counter, some mail too, put something else in the sink. His shoes tracked in God knows what and he started folding laundry and leaving it all over the table.

sad face bad mood

Me, yesterday, after being face-down in the sand!

The spell of my freshly straightened house disintegrated. He continued to drag things from upstairs to down. He had ideas about where the new satellite would be wired.

“Not upstairs. We have Amazon Fire there.”

“I want the satellite upstairs though,” he grumbled.

And I acquiesced in a moment of weakness but here’s the thing, our bedroom had become a dumping ground for folded laundry and animal stuff when we had guests just a day before for four nights.

As ire blossomed in my shoulders, so did a dialogue of anger and, I have to say, venom.

I put my foot down. The satellite guy could come back when that area was straightened. Bob looked deflated. He really wanted satellite upstairs.

vintage TV old TVBut here’s the thing… we don’t often watch TV in bed. Rarely. Bob gets up at the crack of ice–around 3 in the morning–and goes to bed so early that the only thing we watch in bed are the shadows lengthening on the walls.

I felt vindicated. I was right! Ha-HA!

So, why do I feel like such a heel today? Could it be that the tiff we had about the stupid TV was the least important thing. It was. So, what’s the real problem? Well, I would have had to clean the room to let someone within it’s furry and feathery walls. The cat boxes, their food and water, and a pigeon have it in quite a shambles. Having someone go in there for any reason would have meant I would’ve had to clean. And at a time when Mom starts to sundown and the proverbial poop hits it.

Let’s just say that I wasn’t in the mood to take on another project–especially one, satellite TV upstairs, which I didn’t want.

I’m cranky. Talk me out of it.

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