* Ahem *
I am the laziest person ALIVE.
Always have been.
Even my iPhone alarm knows it.
My problem is not so much that I like to sleep all day. I just like to lay around. Chill.
After much research, I have come to the conclusion that I have a case of the Chronic Loungeitis.
Hey, YOU in the back, shut the hell up. If you don’t believe me, look it up. Bitch.
Sorry about that guys.
Anyways, I hear people say * ALL THE TIME *, “Oh my God, I have been stuck inside all day long doing nothing. It’s driving me crazy!”
And in my head I am all, “You shut your whore mouth.”
Because me? I could be stuck inside. For days. Laying in the bed or sprawled out on the couch, watching TV, reading trashy magazines classic literature. Or just staring at the wall pondering really deep stuff like, for the love of god why did Jim and Jenny break up! Why god why! Why would they do this to me??!! “Chicken? Egg? What did come first?”
If you were unfortunate lucky enough to take a journey inside my mind, you would likely find this…
Or possibly this…
You know? Lots of deep, intellectual shit.
It’s just that…how do I say this?
I hate moving if I don’t have to.
And while I am able to throw a burger from across the room and make it directly into my starving kid’s mouth, not moving does hinder my ability to complete other tasks well.
In particular, cleaning.
Burning off the 403 breakfast tacos I had for a mid-morning snack breakfast.
Let’s start with the whole silly cleaning thing, shall we?
I am THE most disorganized person in the world. Or at least in Texas.
And I have been able to justify this, for the most part, up until now.
My husband has been out of town for 11 days and counting. This is the longest time we have been apart. Ever.
I have always assumed that we were both super messy pigs. I figured half the mess was mine, half was his. At least that’s what I screamed at him told myself.
But, the other night I was looking around the house at the mess and it hit me.
Holy shit balls!
This was all my mess.
I am the messy one of the two of us. I mean, I guess I could blame some of it on Luca, but he certainly did not leave the empty wine glasses and OK! magazines People magazines all over the house.
And that granny panty thong thrown on the floor in the bathroom? Definitely not his. His are way smaller and much less frilly. Plus, he is way to busy reading his Vonnegut novels to be throwing his panties all over the house.
In light of the discovery that I AM A PIG, I decided it was time to give myself a little intervention.
After a lot of back and forth, negotiating, slamming doors and yelling, me and me came to an agreement.
I would sign up for a six week boot-camp and start picking up after myself a little.
I figure that if I hate both of these things at the end of six weeks, I can throw my lazy ass back on the couch and call it a day.
It’s only been a few days, but I have managed to hold down my end of the deal.
I had my first mommy boot-camp yesterday morning!
I didn’t puke.
Also? I have been cleaning the house each night before bed. Holding down the fort like a good little wifey while hubs is away.
Knowing that my husband would may not believe any of this, I knew I had to document it.
So, I emailed him a picture of our super clean kitchen on Friday night….
Two days later, I emailed him another picture of our kitchen to show him that it was still clean!
I added a little somethin’ somethin’ so he did not think I was reproducing the original “clean kitchen” picture.
In other words, so he would know the new “clean kitchen” picture wasn’t dirty.
I’m pretty freaking proud of myself.
With that said, all of this adult shit hard work has been pretty draining.
Especially now that Luca’s in his “Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy” stage (in itself exhausting).
Add the stupid cleaning and boot-camp and holy crap being a grown-up is hard.
When the hubs gets home I am totally taking a day all for myself.
And if anyone, ANYONE! Asks me for a anything, ANYTHING!
They will hear this…