if dreams were lightning & thunder was desire, this old house would have burnt down a long time ago.

some days life seems so magical and beautiful, and i have to stop and think, "i could do this. new york, i could love you. i DO love you."

yesterday was not one of those days.

oh, yesterday.

husbear is in michigan, on a little leg of the white pines tour.
husbear worked hard for the last two semesters and through both of his breaks.
and now husbear has the month of august off.
so he can go do those things.
it's not fair for me to be jealous of him because he earned this break.
but i can't help but feel those little nasty twinges of envy, and i can't help but hear the little voice in my head that says "how come you don't get august off? you worked hard, too. you're still working hard. you're paying bills, you're cleaning the house, you're what's holding everything together. he couldn't do this without you. you should get time off, too."
but i can't.
because while i love miles and i love my job, it is not the sort of thing you can just take some days off from.

so, here i am.
in hot, sticky, sweaty new york.
i spent $265 dollars on groceries on tuesday and tried not to puke when i handed them my card.
then i had to pay for a can to get allllllll of those bags from the store to my home.
then i had to carry allllllll of those bags up 3 flights of stairs. it took 3 trips.
then i had to take the dog down to pee and poop.
then i had to feed him and the cat.
then i had to put all the groceries away.
which meant i had to clean out the fridge. and the freezer. and the cabinets. so i did.
then i did all the of the dishes that husbear didn't have time to do before he left (and i am not going to listen to that little voice that said "but he had august off...how come there are dishes in the sink at ALL?") which was 2 sinkfuls. then i walked around the house and gathered another sinkful of dishes.

so anyway, yesterday.
turns out that steve mcqueen the dog doesn't want to sleep all night after having been locked up in his cage for 11 hours. (i know. this is so mean. usually husbear is home to take care of him, but he's not. and he can't stay out of his cage or my cat will get eaten and so will my entire apartment.)
so he was up and at'em at 5am. which wouldn't affect me, except he sleeps in my bed. and he kept pawing pawin pawing at me to get up, and whining at the door, and chasing the cat, and trying to chew everything, and burrowing in the covers to lick my feet. UGH.
so i gave up and got up for the day, an hour early.
so i finished the rest of the dishes in the sick and scrubbed down all of the countertops and took the dog down three flights of stairs and then back up them and fed him and the cat, who didn't seem to want to be ANYWHEREELSEINTHEAPARTMENT other than RIGHTUNDERNEATHMYFEET so i kept tripping over her and stepping on her tail and she'd squeal and i'd just scream "WELLLL????" because what did she expect, standing directly under my feet???

also, we dont have air conditioning except for a little unit in the bedroom.
so i was sweaty and smelly, all before 7am.

so whatever, i got dressed and went to work.
and miles doesn't like the heat anymore than i do, and he made that very clear allllldayyyylongggg. i cannot handle whining. i can't. but how do you tell an 8month old to stop whining? all he hears is "fjs;lerhgadkjghadl/fkgha;ga" and who knows that means. so he kept whining, all day, in the same freaking pitch. i wished he would have just gone up a note or down two. just for some variety. and he's a WRIGGLER. he doesn't like to be wherever it is you want him to be.
now, i love him.
but yesterday was just not his day.
then i had to buy a huge thing of cat litter.
and carry it home, on the subway.

and when youre hot and sweaty and tired and cranky, everyone on the subway is at least ten thousand times more rude and snarky and loud and obnoxious and ugly. it's true.
so i stood there on the train, feeling sweat running down into my bra from my neck, wanting to swing this massive cannister of cat litter in a huge arc and knock out anyone it hit. it would have felt so good to just do that. but i would have gotten arrested, and that'd be hard to explain to my boss. so i just stood there glaring at everyone who weighs 3459720496 pounds and should have ot buy two damn subway tickets because they take up so much room and stare at you meanly when you have to duck and cover as they walk by.

so i got home, to my top floor not-air conditioned apartment.
i took the dog out.
and i started cleaning.

at the end i was exhausted, but my house is sparkling. SPARKLING.
with the exception of the bedroom, which i'll do tonight.
it's the messiest, but it's got the little ac unit in the window, so i wont mind spending my evening in there.

and tomorrow my husbear will come home and sweep me up into his arms and tell me how pretty the apartment looks and how pretty i look and how much he missed me.
and then we'll rent a car and go to harrisburg to visit my soulmate/best friend allison.
and i won't have to clean a thing.

and i'm ignoring the little voice that says "if you were out of town, do you think husbear would have cleaned the apartment?"

today i'm hoping for a better day. but i just don't have a lot of hope, because it's gray and rainy and STILL hot and i've already cried while reading other people's blogs because their life is just so put together and exciting and adorable and they're GOING places and DOING things and they can keep their damn houses clean, and i can't. i just feel like laying on the floor and crying, but i can't do that either. and miles will be awake soon.

please keep your fingers crossed for me.
if today doesn't go well, i'm moving to alaska.