Showing posts with label theater curtains are very big. Show all posts
Showing posts with label theater curtains are very big. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Blobby, Misshapened Freak Puffs

I really hate it when MDH goes to bed before me.

Oh I realize that MDH is a grown ass man, who can make decisions for himself and frankly do pretty much whatever the fuck he wants, up to and including going to bed at whatever time he damn well pleases... but still, it bugs the shit out of me when he goes to bed before I'm ready. I like us to go to bed at the same time. That's how we usually do it.

Actually I like to get up there just a scant few minutes before he does. I turn on the over head light and then turn on our individual bedside lamps and then go back and turn off the overhead light. If it's a day that I haven't made the bed then I'll take a moment to straighten out the sheets, fluff up the pillows and even up the blanket distribution. Nobody asks me to do this, it's just nice, so I do it.

On nights when MDH goes to bed before me he just plops his ass right into the bed. Plop.

There is no preparation.

There is no consideration.

He doesn't turn the light on for me or fluff up or straighten anything. This is leading me to think that perhaps I should stop going up there before him and preparing things for us, because obviously he doesn't appreciate it. Perhaps maybe he's never even noticed that I do all that nice stuff at all. And if he doesn't notice or appreciate it then why should I continue to do it?

Here is why I will continue to do it... because it's much easier than the alternative, which I will now describe:

When I'm ready to go to bed I arrive upstairs to a very, very dark bedroom. You see, we now live on the surface of the sun* and have installed both blinds and blackout curtains over the windows in order to keep our bedroom from becoming a pizza oven and that we not burn to death.

We're talking dangerous dark, like smash your face into a door frame and stub your toe and scream in blood curdling pain kind of dark, so I like to flip on the overhead light before I walk over to my side of the bed to turn on my bedside lamp. The flipping on of the overhead light causes MDH wake up slightly and moan in agony at the bright light in his face.

He does this even without the overhead light, after I have groped my way slowly across the room. The instant I snap on my bedside lamp the moaning and whining begins.

It is at this point, when the light comes on that I notice the complete fucked-up-ed-ness of the pillows and covers. Basically, he is spread eagled in the middle of the bed, somehow clutching every corner of the blanket and now untucked sheets and desperately clinging to my pillows** like a drowning man to a life raft.

You sleeping motherfucker.

Now is the time that I must attempt to shove him back over to his side of the bed (an enormous king-sized bed, mind you) whilst simultaneously prying him loose from my pillows and unclenching the blankets*** and sheets from his grasp. He is a large, large man, who all the while is whining and groaning like a large, large infant and I want to bash his head in.

My research concludes that the length of time that has passed between when he chose to go to bed and when I chose to join him there is directly proportionate to the degree to which the bed is fucked up and decibel of sleepy whining and moaning that occurs.

UPDATE: As Veg so rightly pointed out in the comments, having a made bed beforehand actually prevents this particular rage of mine from occcuring. Yesterday I did not make the bed. So I am most definitely, at least partly to blame.

I'd also like to just make sure we all understand that the going to bed at different times and MDH whining and hogging all of the bedding is actually a pretty rare thing around here. The bed is usually made and we usually go to bed at the same time. Yesterday was a rare non-made bed day and an even more rare unbalanced bedtimes. Rare as it is, apparently it still makes me fly into a fit.

*Texas

**I am a diva and I have 4 pillows and I use them all. Furthermore, they are not just any pillows, they cost ... well never mind how much they cost... they are fancy pants, extra firm goose down pillows. They are glorious and they are mine(!). The reason I have 4 is because I originally bought 2 for me and 2 for MDH, but he balked at the price and insisted he didn't like them. I told him fine, go pick out your own damn pillows. So he went to K-Mart and picked out his own from the $5 bin, and was rather smug about it. I now use all 4 of the fancy pants pillows. I make myself a little nest and it's wonderful. I sleep like an angel. Anyhoo... MDH prefers to use the $5 foam poly pillows that are so stiff they could stand up by themselves if they weren't so misshapen due to their being made from a horrible space age polymer by 3 year old Sri-Lankans. They're like... old beat up sofa cushions jammed into 600 thread count pillowcases. It's weird, and yet MDH refuses to acknowledge the clear and marked difference between the obvious quality of my lush and pliable goose down dream givers and his blobby, misshapen freak puffs. He even talks smack about my pillows and yet I have busted him multiple times hogging them when I have failed to separate them on the bed properly.

***You are correct, we don't have need of a lot of blankets on the surface of the sun. This summer we are only using one light weight quilt, but it is still of the utmost importance that it remain evenly distributed on the bed and not be hogged.







Thursday, January 8, 2009

She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B

Updates, Apologies, Corrections, and a Confession, In No Particular Order

What a morning. Drama-O-Rama.

I would like to take a moment to thank you for all of your kind words and disturbing, yet somehow uplifting, suggestions for violence to be wielded upon the dastardly villains who didn't see fit to hire me. You have all helped me cope with my most recent bummer. Also, as indicated in the title I want inform you of updates, corrections, apologies and a confession having to do with events in my life that have occurred in the past 24 hours or so.

8:25am - The Correction
When I arrived at the office this morning, tear swollen and red rimmed from last night's crying jag, I found a new appointment in my schedule for a short meeting with the co-managers who had interviewed me for the job I wanted and did not get.

The appointment was titled "Hiring Decision" and was set to occur in 20 minutes. I barely had time to remove my snow boots and the furrow from my brow, get coffee or practice thinking about the whole situation without crying.

8:45am - Apology #1
They were shocked to discover that I already knew I didn't get the job because, as it turns out, HR sent me the robo-rejection by mistake and they had intended all along to let me down in person. They were very sorry for the robo-rejection.

9:15am - The Confession
As the meeting was wrapping up we were all smiles and sunshine. Then one of the co-managers insisted on giving me a hug. Under normal circumstances this would have been fine. I'm all about the hugging. I like hugs for the most part and under the right circumstances I find them perfectly acceptable at work and I think that our meeting totally qualified as the right circumstances.

However.

Due to serious downward mood swing caused by the previous evenings robo-rejection, I didn't pay as close attention to my wardrobe selection this morning as I might normally. I chose a pair of slightly too loose corduroy pants paired with a slightly too short sweater, thus causing a theater curtain sized portion of my flabby be-stretch-marked midsection to be exposed to daylight during the hug. I have since learned that stretch marks have nerve endings that are extremely sensitive to air and daylight because I swear to god I felt physical pain.

9:30 am - You're Killing Me
I had just started to recover from meeting and the whole exposed midsection incident and get back to work when I looked up and saw the sweet, kindly co-worker I bitched about yesterday. The one who keeps asking me if I've heard anything about the job. She had that look on her face. I knew what was coming so I cut her off at the pass. People, I didn't even take off my headphones or give her enough time to speak. I just looked her square in the eye and sharply said, "No!" As if I was correcting a bad dog.

And then I pointed down the hall as if to say keep walking.

9:50 am - Apology #2
I received a phone call from HR with a formal apology. I was in no mood to answer the phone and accept the apology graciously or in person, so I let the pathetic HR dude leave a grovelling voice mail. Also this way I get to listen to it over and over again and that can be very satisfying. That's right HR dude. Bow and cower in my presence.

10:15 am - Unfucking Believable
I checked my gmail only to discover that I had received yet again the exact same robo-rejection from HR that was apologized for not 30 minutes ago. Yes. The asshole apologized and then RE-SENT it.

Update - Yippee! I'm Number Two
Here's the poop: It was down to me and one other person who happened to be an internal candidate. They hired someone internally. No surprise there. It is very difficult to get a job here. They almost always hire internally. They have since changed the rules and you can only contract here for a year and a half before you get shit canned, but I know people that were contractors for as long as 6 years before getting hired. So my beef was not so much that I didn't get the job. No. My beef was the robo-rejection. Today they gave me my love, so I'm feeling much better.

Apology #3
I am sorry I called my co-worker friend a Twat in my post yesterday. She doesn't read my blog, but still.