It's Monday night...
Work is over. You have battled the hordes of customers with your verbal hammer and sent them back from whence they came where hopefully they shall remain (in other words, you have just taken 7.6 hours worth of berating by strangers who are obviously better than you in every conceivable way).
The drive home is traffic laden, but Tangerine Dream fills the air and you are in no state to really give a shit. Hey, you can't change the traffic right? You KNOW that it will be quicker to get out and walk, but leaving your car behind is not only counter-productive and an expensive exercise, but stupid and compulsive.
But the sweet tunes lull you into a small dark space where you can sit and think about the day and rejoice in the fact that you only have a short distance to go until the days dirty scum can be scrubbed off your skin.
The next two days are work-free. You don't have to consider work. You don't have to live through the mistakes you may have made during the last week at work. That can wait until Thursday, where the ritual torture begins anew.
What is on the agenda for tonight? Home by six thirty at this rate, home sweet home. Home, where you can put my feet up and relax. Home, where you can watch a few episodes of Star Trek DS9 and then maybe ingest an old Italian mockbuster or two (or three).
Cut to Wednesday night...
Those few episodes turned into a few seasons, the Italian mockbusters turned into an all weekend marathon, and you suddenly realised that:
1: The dishes are a mile high (not really an exaggeration)
2: The bird has left seed husks all through the house, your hair, the kitchen sink, the laundry, fucking everywhere.
3: The gardens look like satans armpit
4: The lawns looks like satans armpit too
5: The bedroom looks like someone let a homeless person in and rifle through the place,
6: My armpits smell like satans armpits,
7: The rubbish bin is filled to the top with no sign of stopping,
8: You are in your underpants because washing clothes hasn't been a priority lately,
9: Your teeth are hairy,
10: Your wife's teeth are also hairy.
Sure is quite the Wednesday night predicament you're in hey?
The truth of the matter is that it isn't a predicament. IT ISN'T.
There is a bad smell in the air (not my armpits) when it comes to what is expected of us on a daily basis. Do we spend our time cleaning, cleaning, and re-cleaning to the point of living in hospital grade cleanliness? Or do we rough it for a couple of days to ensure that those precious few hours after work and on the weekend (whatever two days your weekend or days off may be) are spent enjoying our lives with people that we want to enjoy our lives with?
Hey I'm not knocking all you clean freaks out there; if that's your deal, then shit son, that's your deal.
My house remains clean to live in, I'm not like this crazy bitch:
 |
| "This my lovely kitchen" |
Oh we will clean the fuck out of the place when necessary. But it wont get in the way of ME TIME.
What is ME TIME is totally subjective to the individual.
Your idea of ME TIME may be to take a nice stroll through the everglades, outside of regular human contact, only to stop to smell a pretty flower - this is great, wonderful use of ME TIME.
Another example of ME TIME may be scrubbing the walls with a toothbrush to ensure that EVERY SINGLE LAST FUCKING SPOT IS SCRUBBED YOU SON OF A FUCK!!!!! Once again, great use of your time if that's what makes you happy.
My idea of ME TIME, is what I will now dub here WE TIME.
WE TIME is very very rare. WE TIME is based around the idea that two people meet, and their ideas of ME TIME are the same thing. Example:
Boy likes to do nothing and watch Henry Silva beat the shit (verbally and physically) out of young Italian upstarts.
Girl likes to do nothing and watch Franco Nero slap his way from one side of the city to the other. Also likes popcorn.
Boy meets girl, they fall in love, they bond over individual ME TIMES and create WE TIME, amalgamating without fuss and creating a fantastic time to be had. Also, the popcorn worms its way in to the situation and henceforth we have a BONUS ADDED.
WE TIME is so fucking precious, and so fucking rare. And the beauty of WE TIME is that you can still always get ME TIME because you know that potentially it can develop into WE TIME.
I propose this to you: If you found someone to have WE TIME with...would you waste that time to clean your house?
FUCK NO - You would spend every goddamn waking moment with that person because YOU DESERVE IT!!! If you are lucky enough to get that, then you have it made. YOU HAVE IT MADE!!!
So I have someone I can spend WE TIME with...
I sometimes leave my house in disarray because WE TIME gets in the way.
So leave me the fuck alone, because my life is awesome.
If someone criticises you for not focusing your energy on stuff you can do later once your leisurely activities are complete, then tell them to leave you the fuck alone.
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