The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Or so I thought when Hubby and I entered the cactus-on-the-doors Mexican restaurant last Sunday. Little did I know my craving for Mexican food in the Land of Far, Far Away would soon be squelched by their inability to even make a tasty fajita.

Sad days…no Jersey Mike’s in close proximities and no Mexican food? What HAVE we come too?

Me to Hubby: We have to stop! I NEED mexican food.

Hubby: I don’t think it will be very good out here…not what you are used to!

Me: How bad could it be? There are cacti on the doors? Awww feels like home!

Hubby: Ok, but I am not sure about this….

Me: It HAS to be good, even the waiter has an accent! It’s authentic!

Hubby: I wouldn’t be so sure….

Me: I am having fajitas…I am craving them.

Out come our fajitas….

Hubby: How is it?

Me: Not good…it’s like they didn’t season the meat.

Hubby: See I TOLD you!

Me: WHY did you make me move here? NO good food, higher prices on alcohol, AND people talk funny…..I miss HOME!

A lot of you have asked how the reunion was between Hubby and I.

Here’s  a snapshot:

Hubby: Set the table.

Me: That’s a boy’s job.

Hubby: Take the trash out.

Me: That’s a boy’s job.

Hubby: Are you going to take Patches out?

Me: No, that’s a boy’s job. Plus it’s part of our contract*.

Hubby: (gives me the LOOK)

* Note to Readers: The terms of the contract were as follows: My leaving the land of ETERNAL SUNSHINE for the Land of Far, Far Away consisted of the following terms, WHICH Hubby agreed to:

*I will NOT shovel snow. Non-negotiable

*I do not have dog duty. (Due to lack of a yard in the rental house)

*I will plan a one month vacation back to the LAND of ETERNAL SUNSHINE when it is time to move into a bought home….no.more.renting OR moving OR packing for me. I am DONE.

Those were the terms, agreed to by Hubby.

Non-Negotiable.

So, it’s no secret really, but I HATE peas. You know, that little round, green vegetable that tastes nasty? Yea, that one. I don’t consider myself THAT picky, so the other night while Hubby was making dinner I questioned WHAT he was thinking…

Me (maybe a bit snotty–but in my defense I had had a LONG day at work): WHAT are you making for dinner?

Hubby (ever so patient): Umm some chicken casserole dish.

Me: Eh, WHAT is in it? AND what are you doing with that vegi pack? You KNOW I hate peas.

And then I walk away to find my Crown and Coke (hey, it makes me nicer…Hubby encourages me to drink). I return to find him picking out the peas out of the vegi pack.

Hubby: See, this is how much I love you.

Me: That’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t do that for you….you shouldn’t do that for me!

So, he stops….

It’s only later that I realize, once the dinner is ready,  I just SHOULD have let him pick out all those nasty peas, as  I had inadvertantly eaten some that hadn’t made it into my pea pile…..

You KNOW they are gross when even the dog won't touch em...

So, we are at the final stages of being done with the move. Thanks goes out to those that were enlisted in the “helping process” you know who you are…

So Hubby and I continue to clean….well Hubby continues to pack, while I clean…and take a few breaks. Breaks consist of every 10 minutes! They go like this:

*swish the toilet (break)

*clean the mirrors (break)

*vacuum a room (break)

*pack up the bathroom odds and ends (break)

*clean the bathtub (break)

*throw away lots of stuff that I don’t want to pack (break)

*play with the cat (break)

All while Hubby mutters under his breath…

Hey! I’m a good cleaner, I’m just not too motivated anymore….plus I have the art of taking a break down to a science!

Me: OH NO! I NEED to delete something…the DVR has only 54 hours left of recording time.

Hubby: That is more than enough time!

Me: No it isn’t! You know how I like to keep our “available air time” at 60 hours.

Hubby: You are crazy.

Me (trance-like): I need to delete. Can I delete this show?

Hubby: NO!

Me: I need to delete. You don’t ever watch any of these shows in here! Can I delete this show?

Hubby: NO!

Me: You are crimping my DVR style.

Hubby: Right….

(Totally going to delete something when he isn’t looking…)

So, it isn’t like I have a problem or anything, but I noticed that so far this entire week I have guzzled no, eh downed, no drank some sort of liquor beverage every night. Not that there is anything wrong with that, right?

I have determined that work causes me to drink. But, that is a different story for a different day. So, I come home after a hard day of work and Hubby pours me a nice glass of Crown and Coke. Yea, I am a whiskey, beer, wine, you name it, I will drink it gal. Judge away.

I think I am totally cool downing my whiskey, that is until I get a text from a friend.

Friend: You drunk yet?

Me: No, but I am drinking coke and Crown.

Friend: You are so classy.

Me: Don’t be jealous

But, I am right? I mean, I am classy and lady-like. That is why Hubby likes me, right? (BELCH).

Or is it cause he thinks he will get lucky?

P.S. Hubby oftens suffers from spouts of delusion, especially when I have a drink in hand. (BRRPPP)