Marty has been unemployed for 10 days. Which means he's been home for the past 10 days. He's been home All. Day.
In that time he's discovered I don't uses magic pixie dust to get household chores done. Yep. I do stuff around here. So, he's "helping me." For example he washed the sheets. But neglected to change out the pillow cases. And, he spent $150 at the grocery store and bought at least four things we already had--but didn't bother to tell me he was going to the grocery store in the first place. Nor did he buy the one item we still need. But, I'm not going to say anything for fear he'll head on out to the local market and come back with a random bulk purchase of dried banana chips and a gallon jar of kimchi.
While this is going on, I'm attempting to spend my day slogging through the boatload of changes my editor sent me. Dare I say, it would go much faster without Marty's constant encouragement. "How's it going?" "Are you still rewriting chapter three?" "Do you want lunch?" (at 10:30 in the morning) "What are you planning on cooking for dinner?" (at 11:30 in the morning) "I wanted to let you know applied for a job in Ottumwa Iowa." And, "Are you working on chapter four yet?"
Please understand! None of the above is to in any way demean Marty. He's navigating a new season in his life. I'm navigating a new season as well. Plus, he's happier than I've ever seen him. Leaving behind Dante's third circle of hell was a great choice and none of us regret his decision. I think if he'd stayed with that job he'd have had a stroke within a year. However, I want to get my editing done, Therefore, tomorrow morning, I'm hiding the pixie dust and sending him out to weed the front flower bed.
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