A friend suggested a way to keep my husband from using my tools, that is, my shovel, rack and hoe. Paint the handles pink. And write, “I am gay” on them. (See the May 2, 2006 post about Tools).
A frustrated wife and mom decides to document her husband's crap. She is joined by several other frustrated bloggers living with packrats and slobs.
Photos document clutter and unfinished chores along with dates in an effort to prove that she is right and he is wrong.
Please do not assume to understand the relationships between the contributors and their spouses based on the content of this blog.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Weekends are hard. Especially when I get enthusiastic about cleaning up my husband’s crap. Why do I set myself up for a fall? I should know by now that cleaning up the crap is a daunting task. But every other weekend, or so, I go through this. Then half way through the day I get so crazy that I end up calling my sister and telling her the same ol’ story. The clutter is driving me crazy!
Yes, I’m in counseling. We are trying to analyze MY personality. That is all fine and good. But the truth still remains that it is my husband’s crap that is making me insane! When I trace the thread of what has me so upset, the tread always leads back to the clutter.
DH did volunteer to go to counseling, too. So far he hasn’t. His work has been especially busy right now and he hasn’t had the time to make it to the appointments. But I am not going to let him off the hook. You see, I am afraid as time goes by, he will mistakenly think that OFFERING to go the counseling is the SAME THING as going. Not so, DH. Your time is coming.
Posted by Cyclothymic Cister at 7:50 AM