This housekeeping thing is getting to me.
I sat up late last night because my son decided to wait until after midnight for someone to give him a ride home...a ride I could have given him three hours earlier. I have NO freaking clue why the ride from his girlfriend's brother is better than a ride from his mother. I mean, sure, a ride from his GIRLFRIEND, of COURSE that's better than a ride from his mother but his girlfriend's BROTHER? Not only that, but he finally came in after 1am. He could have been sleeping at his girlfriend's apartment, which is right across the street from his place of summer employment. This would have afforded him the luxury of two extra hours of sleep, since he wouldn't have had to get up two hours early to catch a freaking bus but noooooo.
I wouldn't be bothered so much by this if he wasn't working with power tools right now. Tired and tools don't mix. Just ask Anthony Weiner.
Well, since he was in a state of flux, so was I. This means I didn't get to sleep before 1:30 either. I amused myself by watching "The Banger Sisters" on cable while I waited. Why do I watch that movie, it's awful! But I keep watching the damn thing. I keep thinking I've missed something and when I find it the movie will be good. I mean, Goldie Hawn, Susan Sarandon, Geoffrey Rush. Oscar winners, each and every ONE of them. Why is this movie no good? I don't get it.
Anyway, this morning, as I found myself draped over the computer doing my morning check of our lack of money in the bank the browser I opened prominently featured a link to a whole bunch of recipes. I clicked. And I found a feature on make ahead and freeze meals. It occurred to me that this might just be the answer to part of my problems. I get home between 6:15 and 6:30, as a rule. The three men I share my humble abode with are all in exactly the same place, doing exactly the same thing when I walk in. The hubster is stretched out on the loveseat with one of the back cushions removed and placed behind his head, his feet hanging over the edge, watching "The Rachel Maddow Show". My older son is in his room, watching GSN and my younger son, when home, is sitting in the hole in the broken down 40 year old sofa, texting while he plays something on his open laptop.
"Honey, I'm home!"
"What's for dinner?"
Every freaking NIGHT.
Well, anyway, I figure I can spend the week-end cooking and freezing. I've never done that but it seems to me that it would be a week-end well spent. The freezer needs to be cleaned out anyway, the kitchen needs to be cleaned and that way, when someone asks "what's for dinner?" and can say "Whatever you get off your ass and shove in the oven, I'm taking a glass of gin and going to bed."
I mean, I'm going to end up cooking anyway, right? It's not like anyone else will. If I don't, they go to Taco Bell. So now I'm looking all over the Internet for stuff one can freeze. I mean, cook and freeze. And I'm thinking WTF am I doing, spending Saturday cleaning so I have room to cook and freeze on Sunday and then go back to effing work on Monday?
I turned 57 last week and have come to the conclusion I'm too old for this crap. I've been working for the better part of my life and now I want to STOP working and start doing whatever it is everyone ELSE in my family does while I go to work. Not gonna happen.
The hubster thought maybe I shouldn't cook and clean all week-end and maybe we should plan a trip to Disneyland. Have I mentioned I HATE Disneyland? I didn't USED to. But part of my downfall was liking Disneyland and hanging out with people who didn't just LIKE Disneyland but BREATHED Disneyland. Obsession is a scary thing.
Okay, obsession on moderation isn't bad. I mean, I'm currently obsessed with "Dr. Who" because I'm absolutely CRAZY about the 11th Doctor. However, in time, he will regenerate and this phase will pass. I've been watching Dr. Who since the 4th Doctor and, frankly, I haven't been especially enamored with, oh, more than three, maybe four of them anyway. Just saying...
Anyway, I started perusing the prices to go to Disneyland. If I had 400 bucks and nothing better to do than set fire to it I would probably set fire to it before I go to Disneyland and a) spend an additional 400 bucks on food, drink and t-shirts with that idiot mouse plastered all over them and b)run into all those O.C. DINKS who have nothing better to do than buy annual passes and haul their privileged asses down to Anaheim three or four times a week so they can waste money at what passes for fine dining and twitter about their wine selections and the length of the lines in Fantasyland. These are the same people, btw, who have absolutely NO empathy for their fellow men, vote Republican and support the Bush tax cuts for the wealthy because, after all, if the rest of us had lived within our means and NOT believed our banks when our banks ASSURED us that we could actually afford a home for ourselves and our kids we would not be burdening the rest of the privileged, high class populace with out stupid little problems. Like homelessness.
I have absolutely NO clue why people like this hang out at Disneyland. They seem to have overpriced property to come home to after spending the day reading Disney websites at their "look, I'm better than you" jobs which are WAY too complicated for the rest of us mere mortals to understand. They all have cats to feed and overpriced gas to buy and overpriced restaurants to visit. Why the hell do they have to congregate, like so many lowing bovines, in Disneyland, flashing their platinum cards while they buy overpriced tsotskes on Main Street?
Anyway, I'm leaving the family park to those too selfish to HAVE families (as it would take away some of that precious income and, frankly, I'll admit there IS a kind of point to that (as kids SUCK THE LIVING DAYLIGHTS OUT OF ANYTHING negotiable)and staying home to scrub my sink, clean out the freezer, make lists, shop, cook, freeze and label, all in an effort to make my life easier and frankly, when I think of what this undertaking is going to cost me in time and effort I'm not sure how THAT'S gonna work out.
On the other hand, while they're winding down yet another day at the "Happiest Place On Earth" by cleaning the litter box, I'll be sitting on my ass waiting for my frozen lasagna to bake while I watch the season finale of "Dr. Who" with my family. I've got the better part of THAT deal and that's the truth. Trust me, neither your cats nor the cast members from Peter Pan will be at your funeral. My kids, however, will be at mine, probably figuring out what's left and how they're going to come up with an equitable split but they'll be there nonetheless.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to go buy some of those plastic slats that the sumo wrestlers sit on on that commercial about how these things will prop up your sagging couch in a feeble attempt to fill in the hole my son sits in while he texts.