a day in the life of my husband...

This guy has got it made today...

No, it's not his birthday. We're already married, so it's not his wedding day. And we got some time yet before he starts looking like this:

so presh!

Today is (yet another installment of ) "Ross's Day."

Although he started celebrating already last night.

It started when we went for groceries last night. Together. This doesn't happen often. Mainly, because the shit he buys is never on sale I don't like the shit he buys. However, I figured since he did take my ass out for dinner (mid-week, gasp!) when I whined about wanting Logan's steak and mashed potatoes, I could grant him one wish and let him man the cart.

Big mistake.

We check out at Meijers, our bill is like a bazillion dollars, and our cart resembles that of the frantic mother of five small children behind us.

For some ungodly reason or another, he thought it was completely necessary to stock up on the "essentials":  cereal, LUNCHABLES (he's 26), string cheese, mass amounts of canned peaches, bacon (we already have half a pig in our freezer), and a package of "hot hands" for the homeless guy we saw on the way in. (I made him put those back, because said homeless man used to frequent the ER where I volunteered in college and believe me, he's so liquored up he doesn't feel the cold. Sure, go ahead and call me a terrible person).

We check out and he asked me how much we "saved", so I tell him $26.47. He replies "well damn, you better start clipping them coupons again...I liked it better when we had more money.

Yea hunny, well so did I.

Fast forward to this morning, when he insisted I give up what "I promised" and I insisted that he needed to brush his teeth first. Then he tells me...

"Hey, so yea, I forgot to tell you but we're throwing our work Christmas party tonight." (please note: hubby and brother-in-law are self employed with a few guys working for them).

"Yea?" I ask. "What are we doing?"

"Well, me and the guys are getting off work at 2:30, and going down to Cristo's." Surprised, I tell him, "but Papi, I work til 3 and after that Jes is going to cut my hair".

"That's perfect," he says, "because I'll need you to come pick us up later."

Who died and made this man king?!

What THE . . .

Seriously?! Thursday happened over at From Mrs. to Mama and I missed it so today I'm inventing WTF Friday. That's it, you heard it here first...WTF!

What am I doing, you say? I'm BLOGGING, when I need to be WORKING. Meh. Work can wait for a few minutes. I need some SANITY here.   Things are getting hairy and I need a break.

This week I'm saying WTF to...

my cousin. for making her facebook status all about her health insurance company made her get a physical for her husband's (the insurance carrier) work. Much to her surprise, she has high cholesterol. For cripes sake you're 30 with no job and 5 kids. Play with them. Pick yourself up the couch, quit eating their mcnuggets and go for a damn walk! Do some crunches. Fish oil. SOMETHING! Just don't air that shit out on facebook.  **note: now i get to send you nice packets educating you how to manage your chronic condition because that's what i do for a living...and you're insured with my company! On the other hand, fat/sick people = job security.

my boss. too many reasons, too little time. (not to mention I don't want to screw up my annual review next tuesday). Crap.

my body. This is a WTF in a good way. I didn't know it was capable of such things. Nice work, body.

my mom. If she asks me again if I'm having Thanksgiving at my house this year, I'm going to scream. my husband thought it would be fun to host it and went ahead and told everyone we would do the honors. Without asking his wife. Obviously he doesn't want me to work then, because I can't work and get ready for a feast at the same time.

this is the second time he appears on here...

my husband. again (sorry). He came home with a cradle this week. First, I didn't know they still made those, or even still called them that. Apparently one of his clients gave it to him because his dad made it. Ross said he took it by his dad's who said "I didn't make that." Great, now I have a hunk of firewood in my house that serves no purpose at the current time, and belongs to some stranger. Cool.

the clock. Father time just isn't moving fast enough for me this week.

my ex-bestie.  Who STILL hasn't sent us a wedding invite and she's getting married in less than a month. After a deep sermon last Sunday about turning the other cheek, I decided to let it go and sent her a nice note asking for her new address so I can at least send a gift. I doubt she'll respond, but no address = no gift. Your choice I'm just trying to do the white thing.