|Saturday, Sept. 20, 2003 || Rufus, miscommunication, and another neurotic habit|
Perhaps I just need to face the music and admit that I can be really neurotic and high strung.
I am coming to grips with the fact that I have a cereal-buying addiction. Shoot, I may even be recovering - I haven't bought cereal in about a month and I am down to 11 boxes or so in the basement.
Now if I could just get over the cold sweats when I see there are less than 20 boxes down there...
As I was saying, I am definitely high strung. Just ask Rob. Or anyone else who knows me well. Add to that a few neuroses and that t-shirt says oh, so much more than I ever intended.
Yesterday, I realized that I can't straighten up my room unless the bed is made. And as I pondered that, I also had to admit that I can't pack for a trip unless the bed is made.
No matter that I can go days without making our bed. And since Rob doesn't seem to care, why should I? There are much more interesting things to do, like, say, read diaries.
But when the time comes that I just have to put away the clothes that are piling high or I realize that the dust is about a 1/4 inch thick (oh, man, did I really admit that!?), I just can't bring myself to jump in and clean unless the bed is made.
I am not sure what that means; perhaps it will become clear when I take another psych class...
On to other things. Nathan finally thought of name for his furry little arachnid. Rufus. Nevermind that we read that most tarantulas in captivity are female because they have a longer life span (it seems that the males are born and live just long enough to have a little spidey sex and then they kick the bucket), Rufus is the name.
Don't tell her, okay? If any of you have seen 8 Legged Freaks, you will know that I am trying to prevent a revolt.
Oh man, that was probably the grossest movie I have ever seen. Well, a tie with Starship Troopers anyway.
Rob got back from Ohio yesterday evening. He was off on business for 2.5 days, and upon his return, wouldn't you know we had some miscommunication which resulted in hurt feelings on my part. He left the house without a word, and I settled in to read a book.
When he returned, he came over to me with a Starbuck's non-fat caramel macchiato and a DVD from Blockbuster and said, "I'm sorry. I really missed you. Can we start over?"
Yeah, so I melted, so what?
It was worth it later.
Happy Saturday, everyone!
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