Saturday In the Park. . . Not

Another Saturday has rolled around and I have more to do than the day will allow. I have my sister's taxes, my bank statments, my house to clean, and some junk that needs to go! I was planning on going to church tonight because Becca wanted to go. There is a visiting minister that she knows and wants to see. That means everying has to be done by 5:00 and I have to be ready for church by 6:00 and there by 7:00. It is now noon. I don't think everything is going to get done.

I'm really tired of never completing a task. I hate unfinished cleaning jobs, junk sitting in the floor that needing to be moved, bills piled up waiting for me to write the check, my desk is cluttered and laundry piled up.

You may ask why I have to do all this by myself. Because my husband, who works from 10-6 Thursday through Sunday can't seem to do any thing around the house when he is off. He manages to wash a load of dishes if I bitch loud enough. I don't own a dishwasher. See, my problem is I was a stay at home mom until 1989. After that, I managed to juggle all the housework, two small boys, and a full college class load. Once I went to work, I was able to juggle teenagers and work and housework. My husband has never felt I couldn't do it all and still thinks we have elves that could come out at night if we just wait long enough and keep quiet. I ask him to do something and he palms it off on my son who won't do anything he ask him. I can get my son to do certain things. It is all in the delivery. I have no idea why they can't stand each other. I told them both that if they can't get along down here they are going to have a real problem when they get to hell. Yes, I did.

I've realized I'm angry. It isn't fair that I do all the work, pay 75% of the bills, and manage the finances while he works less hours and sits asleep in a chair in front of the television. I am aware of his health issues but none of them involve chronic pain and limited mobility or an inabilty to sweep, wash dishes, make beds, or dust. He can't pee without a cathater and he has a problem with three fingers on one hand that are stiff because he dislocated them three years ago. But since he wouldn't do physical therapy, who cares.

My oldest son will be moving out. . . I hope, in two or three months. My sister's tenant abandoned the unit and Mike is coming up very soon for housing assistance. He can rent from her and be on his own. I don't want to take care of all these people anymore. I've told Mike he better keep this job, even if he had to scrub toilets. No more gas money after this month and no more car insurance from me. He needs both to work but I figure two months is plenty of backup until he gets started.

O.k. I never intended to make this a gripe session. It is what it is. I have things to do. I don't hear much from anyone anymore so I doubt many will even see this any way. I can limit access but it goes to Blogger anyway, so it doesn't matter.

The weather is cold again. So frustrating. A little sunshine, a little warm so we can wear cotton and then, it turns cold enough for a coat. I want to go home. I hate cold weather.

So, I'm off for lunch with Becca and Cheyenne. My treat, of course. Hope you all have a better Saturday and that I haven't spread too much gloom.