An open head wound is not the best way to start of any morning, let alone Christmas Eve. Ask me how I know. Go ahead, just ask. I was getting ready to head out the door this morning and thought I'd be nice enough to fill our kittie's food bowls so they don't pounce on my wife and devour her while she sleeps (hey you never know). As I stood up to fill the water bowl, bam! I bounced my head off the corner of the open kitchen cabinet. Fuckin oww, I slammed my fist against the open door causing various glasses to come flying off the shelf and the aforementioned wife to come flying out of her bed.
At this point I wasn't sure how wounded I was other than my head hurt like a mofo. A quick press of the fingers to the head confirmed I had at the very least drawn blood and now it was attempting to run south for the winter. Luckily it was a mere flesh wound and some light pressure stemmed the flow pretty quickly. Now I'm just nursing a weepy wound and a bit of a headache. Merry F'in Christmas!
Oh ya, I'm not the one who left the cabinet open either... As long as I'm going to jump on this train, since I was kind enough to not say a word about it to my darling wife this morning, I might as well go whole hog. I'm just about fed up to my boiling point with one of her ingrained behaviors. Her current line of thinking is that she needs to get more organized around the house. At first glance, I thought this was the case as well. She has stuff here, there, and everywhere. Now I've come to realize it's not a case of being organized at all. It's a case of being a bit of a slob. Normally I'd be sure our 2 year old is most responsible for making a mess of our house, but I'd be wrong. We make her pick up her toys at night before she goes to bed. My wife could use a serious lesson in being treated like a 2 year old. Holy hell, how much stuff can you spread out throughout the day only to not pick it up?! Shit piles on top of shit and before long it's running over onto any surrounding flat surface that wasn't previously occupied by another pile of stuff that hasn't been picked up. I just cleaned the entire kitchen Sunday afternoon. I pleaded with her to keep it clean. By the time I got home Monday night there were 2-3 piles of junk all ready on the table. I implored her to pick it back up. Last night there were even more piles and dishes were piling back up again. Fuck it, it's her mess and we've got company coming tonight. I'll let her figure out how to get it all cleaned back up.