My husband has two days off work. Today and tomorrow. A cause for celebration? No, it isn't in this case. I just want to be alone! I may be odd, but I do prefer my own company. More so as I get older. There are so many solitary activities I enjoy (perhaps I should rephrase that!), like writing, reading, listening to music, gardening and shopping. I don't want anyone around getting in my way and disturbing my peace! When the children are in school, 9am till 3.15pm, well that's officially 'my time' alone to do whatever I want. Isn't that hideously selfish? It's probably because I'm an only child. So is my husband and I suspect he would like the house to himself on his days off as well.
I'm so set in my ways. I realise I do similar sorts of things at the same sort of time each day. The fact that my husband was in the lounge eating breakfast (he finally got out of bed at 11am) when I wanted to be in the lounge eating lunch and watching Loose Women, caused me a great deal of stress. How dare he! I took refuge in my office, bashing away at the PC and swearing at Publisher as I plodded on with the typesetting.
Peace at last, as my dear husband has now gone out for a ride on his motorbike. Of course I have my own opinions about what he should be doing (cleaning my car, putting together a garden bench I ordered, treating the garden fence and shed to name a few), and ignore the fact that the poor bloke doesn't have the luxury of doing the things he enjoys day-in, day-out as I do.
Better go and do some ironing, even if it's just to prove to him that I do useful things when he's out at work and don't sit around enjoying myself all day!
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