Diary of a Middle-aged Woman

02/05/07 - I'm Glad It's Over!!

What a weekend! I feel like it just flew by. I never thought I would hear myself say this, but I'm glad the weekend is over! I know that sounds ridiculous and, afterall, I've said many times, "A bad day at home is still better than a good day at work!" I don't know if I can continue to say that. I need a few days to recover from my weekend - how many times have I said that! Well, admittedly not often nowadays, but in my younger days - a lot!

The new refrigerator arrived yesterday before noon. It looks great. My husband is going to hook-up the water line for the automatic ice maker, tonight after work. I'm not looking forward to THAT! I hate it when my husband has to do any kind of work like that around our house. If things don't go the way he thinks they should (which is always), the curse words fly, things get thrown, and he stomps around the house with a mad look on his face. I don't know if it is in the directions he reads, that he should do this, but it happens with any kind of repair, installation, or hook-up that he does. He always gets the job done, but it is never without drama. My daughter, the cat, and I just run for cover until the storm of curse words and swearing, throwing tools in the toolbox, and stomping around is over. I guess it's not his fault. I mean how many times have we read directions, tried to do what they say, and things don't go the way it says?

I remember one time, when I still lived at home, I tried to hang a shade on a window. Everytime I got one side in the slot, the other side would pop out. Back and forth I went from side to side trying to get both sides to stay in the slots. This went on, I don't know how long, and then something inside me 'snapped'! I started cursing the shade, the window and anyone within my range of vision. I remember actually banging the shade on the windowsill and cursing at it. I didn't stopped until my mother came into the room and asked, "What the hell are you doing in here?" That one statement released a flood of tears of frustration, "This stupid shade! I can't get it on the window!" I stood there bawling my eyes out. My mother shook her head and walked away mumbling something about, "a psycho!"

Another time, when I still lived at home, I was running late for work and trying to make my hair go a certain way - the way it should go everyday, nothing new or different - and it wouldn't. I used a curling iron in those days. Well, lets just say that I never made it to work and I needed a new curling iron before it was all said and done. It's kind of a blur to me, but I remember yelling at my hair and the curling iron and taking the curling iron and banging it on the edge of something. One good hit and the curling iron broke in half. I think my dad walked into the room and asked, "What the hell are you doing in here?" "My stupid hair and this stupid curling iron!" was all I could say, and yes, I burst into tears then too. Again, my dad, much like my mother, shook his head and walked away mumbling something about "a mental patient".

So, I'm bracing myself for a 'fun-filled' evening. Maybe I'll be proven wrong and everything will go the way it should and without incident. Yeah right! I think I'll stop on my way home from work and get three pairs of earplugs - one for me, my daughter and the cat.

Have a great day!