You Housewives Have it Rough

Due to my recent knee surgery, I have been condemned to my couch at home for the last two and a half weeks slowly going a little bit nuttier day after day. Granted, I've only been mobile for about a full week now and am finally able to do everyday chores like actually going to the bathroom in the toilet and putting on deodorant. While these are small victories in what has become a larger battle called "recovery", I have been unable to find an activity to keep me busy for the entire day. I hope my XBox doesn't read this entry, because she would be very upset.

There ae always more detailed and difficult chores that need to be done around the house, like cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing the toilet, and doing the laundry... but this isn't a concentration camp for crying out loud.

Needless to say, these forms of cruel and unusual punishment are anything but the norm for a working-class citizen like myself. Unfortunately, there are thousands of very educated women who choose to stay home each day and complete these horrible tasks for the betterment of the household. Regardless of age, these poor souls willingly take on the task of cleaning out litterboxes, doing the dishes, dusting the furniture, and spraying Windex on the bathroom mirrors. This type of work was supposed to be outlawed by human right activists and the United Nations, right? Just ask NIKE.

As my time in this world of the true blue-collar workers nears an end and I return to the safe haven that is white-collar Americana in a few days, I cannot help but take a moment to reflect on these past few weeks with a tear in my eye.

Here's to you, American Housewife, for being a beacon of hope for households across this great country of ours without asking for anything in return.

I Am Abused

The other night I decided to host a small gathering of friends for the purpose of playing poker, drinking beer, and possibly a little slap-ass. That's it. I really just wanted to play some cards, lose some money, and then go to bed.

However, one of the friends in attendance decided to open his mouth and ask when the last time I posted on this blog. The fact is, I really didn't know. Well, I did know that it had been awhile... but I didn't know it was almost a full year. But that's not the problem. The problem is that my fiance was in the room to hear it.

She is probably the biggest supporter I have when it comes to my writing, and I have begun to believe that she may actually enjoy reading it. With the exception of my recent attempt to get back into writing by starting a short story saved somewhere in My Documents on the hard drive of our computer, I haven't really had the desire to write anything. However, she has continued her persuasive comments and idle threats with the goal of getting me back into writing ANYTHING.

But this has just gone to a new level. You see, I am currently typing this blog entry on a laptop that she stole from her employer while she sits next to me on the couch after spending a long day at home and not going in to work. Could that be considered theft as well? What a delinquent.

Anyway, I also just recently had knee surgery, and in my obvisouly weakened state and admist the necessary updates on all vital signs just to make sure I am still breathing, the con artist sitting next to me has the gall to pull out my life-support monitoring system and demand that I begin writing again. This is an all-time new low for her; even lower than when she forced me to buy her a very expensive ring, eat cat food, and book a horribly expensive hall and NO CHURCH for our wedding. Can I not uphold my right of keeping the Holy Spirit in my household? I'm engaged to a druid.

Regardless, I will admit that I miss updating this blog on with any sort of regularity, so I will promise to do so more often.