*head thumps self* There I go, wasting another wish! The Innocent Bystander had a mate once who used to get onto him every time he said he wished something on the grounds that "What if you are only allotted a certain number of wishes and you just wasted one of them on that." Now every time I start to wish something, I stop and think about whether or not it is wishworthy. Right now, about the only things that qualify as wishworthy would be the IB coming home, or me winning this contest. (Be sure to click on the "product" and check out the LIFE SIZED VIEW!) I only want to win because I think it would make a great conversation piece. (Heh. Don't make me say it.) Frankly, that thing scares the chit outta me! (Which is actually a whole 'nuther blog post. Promise.)
Sure, I am wishing the
Unit Innocent Bystander was here for the obvious reasons, but he takes care of a lot more things around here besides me. In addition to his studly duties, he also HMFIC (surely I don't have to translate THAT) of:
Changing lightbulbs. It has gotten progressively darker both here and at the house since election day. I am not exactly sure why, but from the day we started dating, I quit changing lightbulbs. Maybe because he is just so naturally closer to them than I am. ^shrug^ I also convince myself that this is one of those wee ways I am helping the environment by using less electricity. Aren't I noble?
Foot warming. I was acutely aware when I woke up this morning to a 30 degree bedroom that I was ALONE in bed. No matter where I put my tootsies, I encountered cold lonely sheets. I miss having someone to snuggle with, especially when it's this cold. And I DO reciprocate, so it is not like this is a purely selfish wish. Really.
Carrying stuff. Yes, I imagine it is sexist of me, but I like the guy to carry the heavy shit, and great googlymoogly, do we go through some heavy stuff. Namely WATER. Because of the fartwater situation, I go through several gallons of bottled water a day between the birds, coffee and cooking, not to mention the amount I drink. He stocks me up before he leaves, but there is a limit to how stocked we can get, as this place barely has room for my shoes, much less pallets of water, and I am tired of toting it in a gallon at a time. (Notice I did not complain about toting in BEER.)
Oooky stuff. Part of the fine print in the marriage contract was that I am allowed to wipe anything on him at any time, and boy, do I manage to get stuff on me that needs wiping. Yes, I almost always have a clean handkerchief on me at all times, but if I used that, it wouldn't be clean now, would it? It is very convenient to merely turn toward him and grab his shirt when the birds lovingly crap on me or lovingly gak me up something.
The Good Morning Jesus song. It is supposed to be a dignified song of praise and worship, but lets face it. I try, but I have no sense of rhythm. I sing, and stomp around and clap, but if their lessons remain my responsibility, I'm going to have a bunch of birds flapping around like Steve Martin in The Jerk.
I could go on, but I would only succeed in depressing myself, and despite the cold, it is a beautiful day out and I'm going to enjoy it. I need to focus on things I can do, rather than things I can't. And I need to focus on them before the sun goes down, cuz this last bulb is flickering!