So, yesterday didn't go very well for W. And, if all the stuff he left behind in various articles of my clothing last night is any indication, this morning isn't going well either. That sounds perfectly filthy, I know, but allow me to better illustrate my point.

Items Found In My Purse, 5:44 am Pacific Time:
1. W's cell phone
2. W's laminated UPS ID card

Items Found On The Back Of The Chair, 5:48 am Pacific Time:
1. W's work gloves, inside...
2. W's freshly washed work jacket

Items Found In The Trashcan, 5:56 am Pacific Time:
1. Ferret (asleep)

Items Found On The Floor Surrounding The Trashcan, 6:00 am Pacific Time:
1. EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF TRASH IN OUR ENTIRE APARTMENT
2. Roll of toilet paper (destroyed)
3. W's special squishy insoles for his work boots (gnawed)
4. Andrew's Tomato Nation pen (mercifully undamaged...)
5. Cat (stalking)

So you see, he's missing a lot of essential items. The cell phone, to call me when the car runs out of gas on the side of the highway at 3 am, for example. I left the gauge leaning hard on empty earlier this evening. Which isn't to say that he couldn't have left early and stopped for gas on his way. But it's entirely possible that he didn't. Or his ID card, so that he can get past the security station at work, and proceed to load thousands of packages with his numb, glove-less hands. Or the insoles for his work boots, so that his poor bony feet don't ache. Or his roll of toilet paper, to bean me with when he gets home. The thing is (in my defense) that I told him that the cell phone was in my purse. I did forget to tell him about his ID card, which had fallen out when I did the laundry last night, but honestly if he'd looked in the purse for the cell phone that I alerted him to, he would have found the ID card by happy coincidence.

Last night I went out with Andrew to do laundry and...glue things (oh, we do have fun), and when I came home W was waiting for me. Kinda grouchy. Apparently he'd sat up for an hour or so, wondering where the hell I was, and would I want food when I got home, and if so what would I want. When I didn't show, he bitterly ate some macaroni and cheese. Then I asked him to please, PLEASE SINCE I JUST DID ALL THIS DAMN LAUNDRY WITHOUT EVEN WAKING YOU UP, fold the laundry and put it away for me. And then, as though he wasn't having enough fun, the ipod broke. Now he has nothing to listen to at work. He's been enjoying podcasts of the UC Berkeley lecture series, but since those file formats aren't compatible with the only other music-playing device in our home (the minidisc player), he had to go to work unprotected.

All he had to listen to today were the sounds of boxes scraping against each other. He was very annoyed. And I was disappointed too, so of course my initial response was "hey, why the hell didja break our ONLY ipod?!" 'Cause I'm awesome like that.

Poor W. He is terribly deserving of sympathy.

I'm supposed to be writing a marriage and intimacy paper right now. But first I have to scoop up the sleeping (and imperiled) ferret and deposit him safely in his cage. Then I'm going to spend a few minutes tearing my hair out and cursing. EVERY SINGLE PIECE OF TRASH. How the hell did he find them all? I know that the old cat-food cans didn't come out of our bedroom trashcan. How did he do it?

I don't ask myself why, not anymore.

Now I just run around trying to understand just exactly how he opened the door to the computer room, not to mention my bedroom door. Because that really pretty spectacular.

Another link, for yous.