We've been astonishingly lazy again today. I'm not sure what is going on with us. We're maybe getting lamer, or fatter, or depressed.
He found out, again, that his work won't start for two or three more days. His boss has two-or-three-more-daysed him to pieces. I don't think they'll open for another week.
I'd said, at some point when our wedding anniversary was aeons away, that I'd leave him if he wasn't working by our anniversary. It's tomorrow, and I'm not leaving.
I'm going in to work early tomorrow so that I can leave early to come home and celebrate our anniversary. We're going to eat at a fancy French restaurant followed by milkshakes from Dairy Queen (my gift to him). He's going to clean the house tomorrow so that we don't have to today (his gift to me).
I hate our dirty house. I hate that I didn't do anything I wanted to do this weekend. I'm lazy and lame. I don't want to be lazy and lame. I'm skeptical of his real ability to clean the house tomorrow, and I'm envisioning a tearful scene about our stupid anniversary when I get home tomorrow.
Maybe I should go ahead and decide that I don't care if the house isn't clean. That way, I won't be disappointed when it isn't, and if it is, it'll be great. Blah blah blah. Expectations etc.