Saturday, March 15, 2008

That's wasting time? Surely, you jest....

My husband suggested to me the other day that I waste a lot of time. In a fit of absolute brilliance, and to prove to him what a ridiculous notion that was, I decided to document everything I do in one random day. I chose yesterday. I present, for your certain approval,

"Miss Ann's Day of complete NON-WASTE"

  • 5:10 a.m. wake up to annoying voice of husband: "hey, you! get your ass out of bed." Say a silent "Fuck you, Gomer" in head.
  • 5:12 a.m. smoke cigarette while I pee and rest head on sink in front of me. Should get points for multitasking.
  • 5:15 a.m. toss cig in toilet and flush, hoping for the millionth time to scald husband in shower. Lament to the gods that it doesn't work.
  • 5:16 a.m. - 5:18 a.m. Make pot of coffee. Twiddle thumbs and sing, "hurry up, fucking coffee pot!" Remind self it is a genius for investing in a Bunn. Fix cup of coffee in favorite "Today I am Bitter" cup, take first satisfying drink.
  • 5:18 a.m. - 5:23 a.m. Pack husband's lunch. Complete waste of time, as he is 49 fucking years old and could do this himself.
  • 5:24 a.m. - 5:25 a.m. Go outside to retrieve barking dogs. Let barking dogs know that I'm going to beat the mortal fuck out of them one of these days. Feel bad. Give them all a kiss.
  • 5:26 a.m. Take coffee and cigarettes to computer. Forget to give barking dogs treat. Tell them, "Jesus Christ, it's no longer such a terrific thing that you poo-ed outside!! You don't have to have a treat for this anymore!" Feel bad. Give double treats. And a kiss.
  • 5:27 a.m. - 5:36 a.m. Check weather, local newspaper, and email. Thank God for not sending snow. Curse criminals. Lament that no one on the internet likes me anymore.
  • 5:37 a.m. Point out bagged lunch, as I have every single morning for the last 23 years and 364 days, for husband. Same place as every other day. Lament that husband seems to be an idiot.
  • 5:38 - 5:40 a.m. Promise husband that I will do housework today till I drop from exhaustion. Will spend no time on internet. Will be good wife, blah, blah, blah.
  • 5:41 a.m. Light cigarette, begin writing on my blog.
  • 5:42 a.m. - 8:00 a.m. Write on blog, read blogs, comment on blogs. Experience bloggy nirvana.
  • 8:01 a.m. Realize feet are cold, so move to couch to nap with puppies. (It should be noted here that my puppies are NOT puppies. They are 3 years old. They're like, arrogant little teenagers. Whatevs. They will always be puppies to me.)
  • 8:02 a.m. - 9:14 a.m. Nap. mmmmm, warm fuzzies.
  • 9:15 a.m. Begin day of texting. Text like a motherfucker.
  • 9:16 a.m. - 9:40 a.m. Talk Thing 1 through a calamity at the post office, talk to office manager and laugh at BIG SCREW UP she made. Talk to Thing 1 again, promise to order checks and send money.
  • 9:41 a.m. Promptly forget to order checks or send money.
  • 9:42 a.m. - 11:10 a.m. Email with friend, play Scrabble on Facebook, text with other friends, check blog to see if any comments. Lament to the gods that everyone on the internet hates me.
  • 11:11 a.m. - 11:20 a.m. Take shower. Accidentally wash hair twice. Complete waste of 2 minutes. Decide not to shave legs, to save time.
  • 11:21 a.m. - 11:30 a.m. Dry off. Get dressed. Brush hair.
  • 11:31 a.m. - 11:40 a.m. Apply whitening strips to teeth. Read 2 chapters of Vampire, Interrupted while waiting for teeth to magically whiten. Discover Marguerite and Julius are life-mates. Think for a while about sex with vampire. Decide probably not good idea.
  • 11:41 a.m. Remove whitening strips, brush teeth. Lament to the gods that it's taking too frickin' long to whiten teeth.
  • 11:42 a.m. - 12:42 p.m. Text more. Do sudoku puzzles. Play scrabble. Check blog. No comments. Try to think of a way to blow up internet. Decide am no mad scientist. Send emails.
  • 12:43 p.m. - 1:00 p.m. Fix self lunch. Eat. Smoke cigarette.
  • 1:01 p.m. - 1:20 p.m. Decide to do housework. Carry 2 baskets of clothes to bedroom. Fold one basket. Feel tired. Smoke cigarette and debate with self.
  • 1:21 p.m. Lose debate with self and go back to bed with puppies.
  • 1:22 p.m. - 4:00 p.m. Sleep. mmm, more warm fuzzies. Wake up for 7 seconds and mumble to Thing 2 when she comes in at 3:00.
  • 4:01 p.m. Wake up and realize am in BIG TROUBLE. Think of excuse for not doing housework. Check email. Laugh. Check blog for comments. Despair of ever making friends on internet. Begin texting. Should get major points for multi-tasking.
  • 4:02 p.m. - 4:05 p.m. Discover cops have pulled someone over in my driveway. Debate telling them to move, as it is time for husband to arrive home. Decide to watch instead.
  • 4:06 p.m. Discover that I know cop. She is a friend. Debate on yelling "Hey, Freako!" to her. Decide not prudent at this time. Notice that cop's ass is getting much larger. Decide promotion is reason. Now she sits at a desk, mostly.
  • 4:07 p.m. - 5:00 p.m. Sit and be bored. Text. Husband finally comes in from garage and I try out my new excuse. "I had cramps." Husband rolls eyes. Asks what is for dinner.
  • 5:01 p.m. Beg for money for Arby's. Cite need for ham and swiss melt. Show coupons.
  • 5:02 p.m. - 5:15 p.m. Go to Arby's. Lament that window dude is way hot. And I am wearing pj's and no bra. Say few curse words. Feel better.
  • 5:16 p.m. - 6:00 p.m. Eat dinner of 1 Arby's ham and swiss melt, 1 Arby's beef and cheddar melt. Play scrabble on Facebook. Smoke cigarettes.
  • 6:01 p.m. - 7:00 p.m. Play Don't Break The Ice with Thing 2. Decide isn't near as fun as we remember. Play Jenga. Hilarity ensues. I lose. Argue with Thing 2 over how to put up game. Lose argument. Do it Thing 2's way. Blocks all fucked up. Cram lid on anyway.
  • 7:00 p.m. - midnight. Text in earnest. Learn much. Laugh often. Tell secrets. Smoke cigarettes, drink two diet cokes. Pee alot. Good times.
  • 12:01 a.m. - 12:10 a.m. Feed dogs. Talk baby talk to them. Many kisses. Pee last time.
  • 12:11 a.m. Lights out. Cover up, snuggle puppies. Sleep well. Good dreams....

So, as far as I can tell, I wasted only 7 minutes the live-long day. So how can he even think to tell me I am wasting my time? Ha! Men know absolutely nothing.

11 comments:

Karly said...

Sorry I haven't been around! Love the new blog!

Also, aren't you not working anymore?

damon said...

The way I figure it, had I commented on a weekday post, the 2 minutes it took to - log in, get to, and read this comment, can be deducted from that 7 wasted minutes. So, mathematically, the longer I make this comment, the better off you are in hubbys' eyes.

-Just tryin to help. ;)

OldHorsetailSnake said...

Boy, I hate commenting on here. It's like I'm breaking your string of bad luck, or something.

Chris H said...

surely that wasn't what you did all day???? REALLY????

She who said...

First time visitor and OMG what a hoot..... You just discribed my day, other than the puppies, games with the messy boys, and making lunch for the Spousal Unit. I saved that time for more blogging.

Miss Ann Thrope said...

Karly: you can make up for it by coming back every single day. Forever.

Damon: I am always happy for a helping hand. Do you do dishes?

Hoss: You hate commenting on here? You ol' coot! I thought you loved me?!?!

Chris H.: You think I did too much? I have to admit, I'm sort of a go-getter...

She who: My oldest daughter is incensed that you would think she was a boy. hahahahahahhaha She's also pissed that I named her Thing 1. EVEN BETTER!!!

Mr Lady said...

Oh, that's luscious. Now, I have to go smoke, damn you! ;)

Tom said...

That texting can take it out of you. Of course you needed a nap!

Sleeping Mommy said...

Damn it, you are effin' funny.

Burfica said...

hahahaha I want that day minus the cigarettes. My rat dog always tries to convince me to go back to bed, maybe I should listen.

I don't think I've folded a load of laundry in 3 weeks. lmaoooooooo

baseballmom said...

Fucking A, I feel ya on the housework. Especially laundry. My boys live out of the clean clothes folded in the laundry baskets in my room, 'cause I hate going upstairs and putting them away. I think we should just move the dressers all down here in my room. Today, I was searching for an underarmor and sliding shorts in T's basket, and came upon shorts. That's kinda sad, the clothes have been in there since SHORTS WEATHER. Hell.