Posted by: aauntiem | June 1, 2010

The Good Old Days

Imagine this: a scary and awful place where you never rest, you go to bed late because of your work load and get up early to start it again. In this place you never sit around on the weekends in PJs. In this world, your TiVo is full and will begin deleting yours shows if you don’t come back to it soon (it is spiteful).

This is what my life has looked like for most of my marriage:

Between teaching and grad school, our weekends were often spent

looking longingly into one another’s laptops.

There is my pile of grading (which often causes me to think I would like to pick up drinking. Then I open a watery beer and taste it, remember I think it tastes like pee, and sit it next to me while I grab a diet coke) snuggling next to Picasso’s homework and cool-aid.

In case you were wondering, we are the life of any party and very debonair.

Now, my weekend is:

hosting and preparing dishes for summer get-togethers

and hikes, and workout bruises, and laying out.

I vaguely remember asking for this. I am pretty sure at some point I looked up at the sky and shaw-shank-redemption style cried into the rain for someone to let me have a social life and to do something other than grading on the weekends.

I understand that this is what I asked for. Rationally.

But, I take it all back. I will grade 900 million English papers if someone, anyone will let me sit inside my house in pjs for two days. At this point, I want to do laundry.

You know that awful and scary place from my very haunting story? That place no one wants to live? I am having a hard time remembering if it was a story about before or after I got a life.

All I am saying is in scenarios #1 I got to wear pajamas.

Desperate to do laundry (so you know she is in a bad place),

AuntieM

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