That Sexy Mortgage

Second day of the divas being gone.

House is eerily quiet. But nice. I can do this.

Should be a great week. No kids…full of eating out, partying, hanging out with friends, going to the movies, having sex (!), right?

Wrong (insert buzzer sound here)!

I couldn't pay the whole mortgage this month. I paid what I could, but all my clients are soooo slow pay, plus, I hardly have any clients. No one is buying fancy suits so hubby isn't doing so well either. The bank, however, did call hubby at work today and informed him that the mortage hadn't been fully paid. He already knew this, but his gasket blew nonetheless and he called me to inform me that he couldn't receive calls like that at work. So I called the bank, placated them, and then, I called his mom and asked her for the money. She is on vacation on the west coast. I am guessing that my call wasn't really one she wanted to receive. We are so lucky to have her, and I felt like a big pile of dirt even having to ask her.

Soooo, no dinners out, no movies, and since we are so stressed out…definitely no sex.

I wonder if this recession will produce more babies or less? If people are staying home, are they not having sex because they are worried about money? Or are they having lots of sex because there is nothing else to do?

I know it's the last thing on my mind. All I can do is fret away my kid-free week about money.

Home Alone

It's the start of what is going to be a quiet week.

Divas are at grandparents for a few days, and I am recovering from hosting a baby shower yesterday. Recovering because I drank a 1/2 bottle of wine the night before the shower, and because the wild 22 and 23 year olds I co-hosted with mixed vodka, pink lemonade and watermelon chunks together and served 'em at the shower. They both showed up hung over so it became a contest to see how many of those we could drink to constitute "hair of the dog." Maybe for them it worked, but I became totally useless as the day dragged on.

After cleaning up after the shower, I folded one load of laundry and then, blanked out in front of E! and HBO for the rest of the day.

I felt guilty. But then, I convinced myself not to feel guilty. I never get to do this anymore. No interruptions from the Divas, most of the household drudgery is under control, so I just let myself go...into passive mode.

Bad thing is, it's catching. I have it today, too.

It's Monday. I should be working. I slept 'til 11. I had coffee. I perused perez hilton and tmz. I took sis in law to the airport (sole reason for getting dressed -- she's going out of town! Can't believe it, divas and sis in law out of town for a whole week!!) I watched some more E!, ate a piece of leftover coconut cake from the shower, and now I am attempting to work again. Wait! No...I am blogging!

Is this what life was like when I was single, before Divas?

I am alone, super lazy and really...almost depressed. I miss em!

How much time can one man spend in the bathroom?

Apparently quite a bit. By my calculations it goes something like this:

4 x .75 (3/4 hour) = 3 hours per day
3 hours x 7 days = 21 hours per week
21 x 52 = 1,092 hours PER YEAR!

That is astonishing. How much time is spent pooping? Reading? Picking cuticles?

The closed, locked bathroom door with a crack of light coming from the bottom of the door is a common, common sight in our house.

Even the divas are great at commenting on the phenomenon. "Where's Daddy?" I ask.
"He's pooping," they reply with complete seriousness.

This morning, hubby pointed out that Diva #1 has begun reading on the toilet. She also farts and laughs, burps and blows...all those joyful things that hubby finds so funny. If she gets married one day, she and her hubby will get along great.

Oh, and if anyone is interested, the literature of choice in our home for bathroom reading is "The Bottom Line" ( www.bottomlinesecrets.com ).

Barbies are trashy.

They don't live here anymore. The messed up hair, the single shoe, the naked bodies with limbs akimbo....they've all moved out. A big white trash bag with a red tie came and took them while the kids were at the pool with sister in law.

Amazing that their departure has left a wide open space in my psyche, and in my house. It felt sooo good. Now, Dear God, let me resist cluttering it up with more plastic-y stuff.

I hope the girlies don't notice for awhile. Mum's the word.