Damn. My dogs ate my wedding dress painting. Not this dog in particular, although I'm sure he joined in the fun a little. But the little chihuahua who is hiding from me in this picture because he KNEW he was bad.
Luckily for me, Sabrina has agreed to redo my dress painting for me. And this one will be hanging on the wall. Not artfully propped up and displayed against my mirror on my dresser next to the bed where the dog can climb up and get to it.
I'm also kind of bummed out this morning because our weekend wasn't really as productive as I wanted it to be. I've come to realize more differences between the 'huz' and I. For instance, when I say that I'd really like to go through and organize the office which is full of (his) stuff, it really bums me out when over a 3 and a half day weekend we can't manage to get it done. Or, when I say that we really need to go through and organize/get ready the stuff for a (long put-off) garage sale, and it doesn't happen, it really bums me out. I hate not feeling "productive" and like I just pissed away my weekend. I'm not trying to say that I don't enjoy relaxing and taking it easy, but when you've got stuff you really want to do (and have for a long while), it's frustrating when you don't even make the effort. Instead, you sit your butt down in front of the TV and nap. I mean, dude couldn't even mow the yard.
I know I'm guilty too, and I think my frustration is as much with myself for allowing this to go on and bother me like this as it is with him for not getting up and actually getting anything done. We've had our discussions on this type of thing before. It doesn't bother him. It doesn't bother him that things are messy, dirty, out of place, cluttered, or shoved in clear plastic tubs in no particular order and not to be looked at again. It doesn't bother him that every flat surface in our small house has become a catch-all for "stuff" like our mail, his work bag, his plug-ins and cords, his medicines, his random papers, his change, his baseball hats, his magazines..... It doesn't bother him, and I know this. But it does, however, bother me. A lot.
So, on my work this morning I decided that instead of fuming about my unproductive long weekend, I was going to own up and do something about it. Even if I have to go through all his junk and risk his anger at possibly throwing away something that he might have someday used for something... I don't care. I mean, our office is so full of stuff, you can only walk to the chair at the desk and that's it. The rest is piled up. I might be having a garage sale by myself this weekend, but it's going to happen. And so what if it's all just laid out on the concrete driveway?? I'm donating whatever doesn't sell so it won't come back into our house.
I'll add to all of this that I'm not the most anal person in the world about order. But I do like a somewhat clean and tidy house. Plus, he's been saying that this is something HE wants to do. He wants to go through his stuff to make "room" (probably for more stuff). I don't mean to sound like a mean ungrateful wife, but this has just been eating away at me since Sunday afternoon. Why do I have to "nag" to try and get things done?
I am so glad that I have this place to kind of "vent". But more than venting, this is an action plan for me. I was supposed to take pics this weekend of our "work" for a Make-under Your Life post. Yeah. That didn't happen. But it will now. I've let him be like this because it's "his" stuff, because the office is "his" space (to decorate), and because I thought that he would eventually do something!! But that is not looking too likely at this point, so.....???
(Thank you for letting me rant a little)