the past 48 hours has broken down roughly like this: 12 hours sleep, 8 hours in a professional development course, and the other 28 hours either prostrate on my hands and knees outlining EVERYTHING with blue painter's tape, or moving a ladder in 2 foot increments as i edge and paint MY ENTIRE F**KING HOUSE. i have paint blisters. i barely have a partner anymore as our relationship has devolved into terse, military war-room strategizing over plans of attack, priority targets, etc. interspersed with shouting obscenities at each other. a small percentage of the remaining time also consists of singing along to the "100 greatest power ballads" that i grabbed off the interwebs and discussing how cory hart's "sunglasses at night" doesn't count as a power ballad. and how i hate it when joe cocker makes things all awkward by openly breaking down during "you are so beautiful to me". joe cocker crying is hella awkward.
i'm not usually good at asking for help. a favorite anecdote of the ex-roomie's is when we were walking home from grocery shopping, conducting auto-psychoanalysis, as is our wont. me: wearing a knapsack with about 30 lbs of groceries and my hands full with several more bags of groceries, talking about how i have a hard time accepting help. i am just expressing this fundamental weakness as i come to the front door and fumble awkwardly with shifting the bags from hand to hand so that i might grab the mail, sort it, discard the junk AND open the door to let us in, when the roomie asks, "can i take one of those bags" and i immediately interrupt with "THANKS, NO I'VE GOT IT." lol! talk about lack of reflexivity!
this house has broken that willful pride. i am OPENLY BEGGING FOR HELP. please, please, please.
the dotytron isn't much better.
me: "so...i've been flirting with ___ (contractor)"
him: *looks up from his book* "?"
me: "i'm hoping that he'll give us a break on the cost or something"
now, we're notoriously relaxed when it comes to traditional possessive jealousy. we're pretty okay with shiz like that. but the enthusiasm with which the dotytron pounced on that off-the-cuff comment caught me a little off guard. he had it all planned out: "we'll obviously pay for the materials, but if you give him 1 bj a month, he could give us the labour for free - what? look, i would GLADLY give (contractor) one bj a month for free contracting labour, but i don't think he wants one from me, k?"
i'll leave you with that image of my partner pimping me out for contracting services. i'm off to steal whatever bits of sleep i'm permitted before getting up and doing it all over again tomorrow.