Never taking the day off again

I took the day off yesterday, to get on top of things. WHAT a waste. I would have been much better off at work.The things I needed to buy were sold out, the people I needed to talk to were not there, the one shop I just had to go to was closed. We had no food in the house, so by noon Mr Husband was as cheerful as the weather (big man does not run on one apple only).

At home, the dishwasher made weird noises, the toilet started leaking and the computer stopped working. Endless panic. I could kill the dishwasher and the toilet for their treason. I now have to call the real estate agent and we all know how I feel about her.

The computer I somehow managed to get started (coerced with sweet-talk). Guess who did backups of EVERYTHING last night? I’m not sure I feel better. Maybe a little. But the computer cannot break down. It can NOT. It is my lifeline to Mr Husband while I’m in Europe and it is bad enough that we are going to be apart for three months. There is no way I am not talking to him for three months. So I also ran all the virus programs I know of (nothing) and deleted heaps of programs we don’t use; “we” as in I deleted all of Mr Husbands games. He doesn’t know yet. I need to feed him a solid breakfast before I tell him.

While I was backing up music, pictures and the endless other crap we have fed this lovely machine, I topped my day off by doing laundry. I bleached the sheets, washed three loads and ironed my heart out. What a fountain of bliss.

I am never, ever taking a day off again. EVER!
Unless you invite me to climb Machu Picchu of course. Then I’m game.

 

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