Bookshelves @ MindSay

If I never see another fucking white bookshelf it will be soon enough for me. He started painting Wednesday and it has been a morning to night ritual that has prevented any holiday time other than fifteen minutes looking at the tree, two hours of tv and the things I planned for us to do. Oh well I forgot dinner. He always has time to eat what I cook and it can be wildly varying hours because his “projects” always override anything else that is happening. “DIANA, get the cat out of here.” “ Diana did you see the level? “ “Diana, where are those extra shims?” SO I thought I was handling it well until this afternoon I hit the wall and thought I am NOT making brandied chicken breasts so he can take a leisurely bath after painting all day and then he will have to go to bed at 8 because he is so exhausted. SO as far as I am concerned the holidays are over. We don’t get to go look at lights or have a holiday drink at the Heathman or stroll downtown hand in hand just for the fun of it. And then thursday he leaves again for a few final weeks away and when he comes back the projects start. If they were not so disruptive I might handle it better. Heaven forbid he take the shelves to the workshop to paint. No he sets up four saw horses in the room , moves all the furniture and boxes until total chaos and a wall of things surrounds him and my job is supposed to be keeping the cat out, making his food and ceaselessly admiring his obsessive work. Whereas wheni complete something he takes a quick peak and says nice. Thanks for the rant, I feel better.

You can tell a lot about someone by looking at their bookshelf.  My current bookshelf is stuffed full and an additional stack of books is teetering on the floor.  Am I a voracious reader or just lazy?  I'm not telling.

 

And you do want to know when the stack will fall? 

 

That's right, in the middle of the night.  When the lights are off, I'm snuggled in my bed, and then ... *bam* *bam* *bam* ... they will thud to the floor, my heart will beat out of my chest, I will be too chicken to check out "the noise," and I'll pull my covers up around my neck and probably turn on the lamp on my nightstand for additional protection through the night.  Don't laugh.  It's not that funny.  True but not terribly funny.

 

Yesterday, I was over my parent's house and I picked up a book my mom had been reading from the end table.  You never really know your parents, I guess.  She was reading a book from one of my personal favorite collections.  Think Christian romance.  I can't believe I just admitted that I read Christian romance.  Let's keep that between us.  It can be our little secret.

 

Anyway, I am going to bring over a few books for my mom and free up a little space on the bookshelf.  She's excited.  And, I am a little, too.  We'll have something to talk about that is completely unrelated to our family or the current family drama/trauma. 

 

Yeah, I like Christian romance.  What's it to ya?  I get all the romance and none of the smut.  Best of both worlds.  But, if you ever question me about it; I would never admit it.  I look like a strictly non-fiction girl, very unromantic, stone-hearted, in fact.  Very tough.  Okay, maybe tough is a little bit of a stretch.

 

I'll go with pseudo-something.  Pseudo-intellectual.  I pretend to be smart by looking like an intellectual.  Yep.  That's me.  That's why I wear glasses. *slightly adjusts my eyeglass frames*   Boys don't make passes at girls who wear glasses, right?  Wrong.  Men don't care about glasses.  Whether they are 16 or 50, they are testoterone-driven lame pick-up line dorks.  But, some of them are kind of cute.  I like to look at them through my smarty-pants glasses.  <ha ha> 

 

You know what they say... never judge a book by its cover.  Corny lines aside, it's time to sleep.  Good night.