Confession: This past week I have taken some time off from being rockstar wife.
Meals haven’t been planned or prepared. (We’ve been eating off the same lasagna that I made last week and announced that it would be the last meal I made till papers were done. ) Laundry has piled up. Groceries haven’t been purchased. The disturbing ring in the tub has gone ignored. Clothing other than sweatpants haven’t made an appearance. Hair hasn’t been combed. Messy topknot has taken up permanent residence on my head. Lots of stress induced brattiness.
Despite his own crazy week with 14 hour workdays and never getting home before 9 (thank you fiscal cliff!), someone stayed up till 1 am the other night to help me edit a paper for my translation class. And he brought me burgers from Good Stuff, as well as fries, despite the fact that I said I didn’t want any because I should just eat an apple instead. Of course I wanted fries.
Can’t wait for Christmas break to start so I can chill with husband again!
[Sidenote: If you are reading this, it means we made it through the end of the Mayan calendar. Close one. I wasn’t too stressed because let’s be honest, they probably just got tired of making it and thought “Surely we can just have some other people make more in say, oh, fifteen hundred years.” But, I did see a really alarming number of dead squirrels on a run this week and I might have texted James in a panic that it was a sign of Mayan doom. Then I developed a conspiracy theory involving dead squirrels, the Mayan calendar, and the fiscal cliff.]