Chirky

This weekend, Roger and I were resolved to fully clean and organize our apartment. We had a leisurely morning, and by 11 am had begun our task. At noon I started freaking out because we had only caused more of a mess, and at the rate we were going, I couldn't imagine it being done by the end of the day. At 1pm we went on a fieldtrip to Super-T, bought a few things to help us organize, and then went back home and split up to run other errands. I knew that Roger would get home before me, and I knew that he was as bent on cleaning our place up as I was. I expected to see a difference when I came home, whether that meant more of our stuff pulled out and stacked in the living room, or else some of the stacks in the living room sorted and gone.

When I was driving home, I noticed a man staring at my car. Now, I like my car; but it's not a head-turner. I wondered what he was staring at, and made a mental note to check out my car when I got home.

After parking, I walk around to the passenger side, and immediately notice a small white paint transfer on the back corner of my car. Somebody swiped me!!

I have a plastic bumper, not fiberglass, so I was able to rub off a little of it. I'm hoping that more will come off when I tackle it later.

Lugging my purchases up the stairs, I'm still stewing from my new discovery. I start to unlock the door, and find that Roger has dead-bolted it. Frustrated, I knock and ring the doorbell. Roger greets me at the door with an enormous
bouquet of flowers and a card! (How did he know I needed that?!?)

As an early surprise for our sixth monthiversary, he bought tickets for a ballet that evening. Not just a ballet:THE Moscow Ballet. Performing THE Great Russian Nutcracker! I was excited to go, but annoyed at the same time. Yes, annoyed. Why? BECAUSE I'M PSYCHOTIC. That's why.

I was soooo bent on CLEANING THE HOUSE that I was frustrated that my only goal of the day would not be met, and Roger had been working so hard on my card and surprise that he hadn't had time to clean up since he had gotten home, and there was so much still to do.

Who thinks that?!? Who in THE WORLD would rather clean the house than go see THE BEST ballet company perform The Nutcracker? I wouldn't rather clean the house than see the ballet, but in this case I wanted to do both. I was in task mode. I frantically start crying and cleaning and crying and cleaning, and Roger is like, "Whoa -- what is the deal?"

Hormones. My estrogen is raging and Mother Nature is paying a visit and it was just too much for me to handle.

Roger was trying to be sweet and romantic by planning a surprise for me, and all I could think about was packing away boxes.

Yes, Roger, you married a FREAK OF NATURE.

We talked about it, and agreed to clean tomorrow. So we will. And all is well. We ran a few more errands together, and then came home and started getting ready for the evening.

We walk in to the lobby at The Majestic Theater (where The Nutcracker was being performed), and I began feeling a little over-dressed. So many people were wearing slacks and sweater sets -- and I was not! Roger pointed out a girl who was similarly dressed to me, and says, "See Sweetie, you're not overdressed."

I looked at her, and guee who it was? WILLOW. What are the chances?

Anyway, tonight was probably one of THE BEST performances of The Nutcracker that I've ever seen. I was sooooo glad that we went. Roger liked it, too.

I've got a good man: willing to put up with my hormones, AND willing to go to the ballet. Is there anything better?