Maintenance Week

The last time the husband went on a trip, I declared it maintenance week. I had the air conditioning serviced and the carpet cleaned. I installed all the computer upgrades and had the water softener serviced. I sorted through papers and tried to file. I updated my iPod and loaded new songs.

I put super gooey creams on my hands and feet and went to bed with gloves and socks on, just to keep in the moisture. I put deep conditioner in my hair and slept in a shower cap.

I worked on projects and occasionally did some writing in the middle of the night. No one to check on me or scold me.

Unless you just got married last week, you probably don't look the same as the day you were married. I don't. But I also respect the fact that the husband probably doesn't want to crawl into bed with a woman wearing socks, gloves and a shower cap. I try to do my maintenance in private.

There's another trip coming up in a few weeks. I'm making my list.

High Maintenance

Big Daddy and I squabble about this. He accuses me of being high maintenance. I guess I am but as I regularly point out -- I take care of my own maintenance.

In my mind, the husband is high maintenance. And, I'm the one who usually does it. Dry cleaning -- check. Laundry -- check. Coffee and other stock items -- check.

We both agree that the oldies are high maintenance and yet, we get some weird satisfaction out of debating who does more for them.

I try not to keep score. If I get really annoyed, I go get my nails done.