Touch My Stuff And Die!

We teach our kids 'You need to learn to share', 'It feels good to share, Sweetheart.' But when it comes to some things, sharing is just not an option.

Like chocolate. Or my laptop. Even if my husband bought it for me.

Just last week, my laptop was snuggled within the confines of my sewing room. It was cramped, and I couldn't spread out to write (the fabric was in the way), but because no one was allowed in the sewing room, my technological baby was left unmolested. But that all changed when I asked if I could use the 'kids' computer desk (the computer that was there died a horrible death- or at least the monitor did), using the tactic that the kids don't need that much space just to play computer games. Whenever we get a new monitor, that is.

My plan worked, but there were some unexpected pitfalls.

It took me two days to clear off that darn desk, and another two to get all my stuff into it, organize it, and have some clear workspace. Workspace which I now have to guard like a rabid momma bear, because people are always trying to mess up my new space with their old cra...um...stuff. I've managed to keep most of the clutter at bay, but last night the unexpected happened.

It was a cold night, my hands wrapped in fingerless gloves my mother-in-law made me so I could use the computer without catching frostbite. I was playing a game on the family computer, minding my own business, when I felt a disturbance in the force. Someone was sitting at my desk. I could sense them somewhere behind me. Thinking they were there to watch my awesome gaming skills, I let them be- after all, what harm could they do sitting in my desk chair?

My neck prickled. I hear the familiar ding of my laptop being booted. I wondered if the game used a similar sound, but no, not too many monster-slicing games have a soft ding booting sound. Then I heard something that made my blood run cold.

Bing, bong-bong, bong-bong! That was no game- someone was using my laptop! Risking whiplash, I turned in surprise to see my soon-to-be-deceased love of my life start up a blank document on my laptop. My laptop.

He was Touching. My. Stuff. Without my consent. This was a blatant breaking of husband/wife protocol.

"And what do you think you're doing?" I ask, glaring at him in a way that Medusa would envy. "Just writing up some stuff for my Men's Ministry." he replied oh-so-innocently. "On my laptop? The one that has all my writing stuff exclusively on it?" I was trying to give him a chance to back away slowly, and think about what he was doing.

Then he grinned at me, all smarty-pants-like. "Well, you're playing game, and I need to do this, so I thought I'd just get it done." I raised one brow significantly, giving him the subtle signal that his life (and bed space) might possibly be in jeopardy. "And just where were you going to save it?" I inquired, again, giving him a chance to explain himself before his demise.

"On the laptop, of course." was his reply, regarding me as if I was the one being unreasonable. Hah.

"That's my writing tool, my desk, and you get your ding-dang hands off of it! There is no saving of documents on my laptop- unless it's mine!" I folded my arms, indignant. "Besides, all you had to do was ask me to get off of this computer- then you can do whatever you want!" To make my point even more clear, I stuck my tongue at him.

Then he grinned again. "That's all I wanted to do in the first place."

Grumbling, I finished my level (doing exceptionally well, since most of the monsters were now named after him), and I relinquished the computer to my husband. I plan on buying a safe for my laptop, or hide it where no one will find it. Maybe in the laundry, or in the dishwasher- or possibly the oven, since no one around here does any chores. Willingly, anyway.

Nah. I'll just put up a big sign that says,' Touch My Stuff And Die!' on my laptop- and the chocolate.

Messy Mondays

Why are Mondays so messy?

The entire family seems to take a vacation over the weekend, leaving the mess for the cleaning staff- which is me. My own fault, really- I was too busy folding laundry this morning to go downstairs and make sure all the mess-makers had straightened up before going to work and school. I came down to...chaos. And I bet if I yell at any of them about it when they get home, I'll hear a chorus of 'What mess?', since most of it will be taken care of.

Except for the 'hot spots'- those places where no matter how much you clean it off, it gets piled with stuff. Like the kitchen sink, the counters, the kitchen table, the computer desk, the floors, walls, windows and ceilings. All but those hot spots. The rest I clean myself. It takes me all week!

This is basically what my week looks like (and possibly yours):

Monday is Messy Day- the messiest day of the week.
Tuesday is Tornado Day- since that's my day off from the gym, I usually get the most cleaning done, but it still looks like a tornado hit the place and took all the good stuff.
Wednesday is Wonder Day- because it's a wonder I get anything done with cleaning, chores and my To-Do list.
Thursday is Thank-God-I'm-Almost-Done Day- this is when the house starts to look like people live here and not wild baboons.
Friday is Fabulous Day- the house is clean enough for company, as long as they aren't cleaning snobs. They only get invited once a year, during the holidays. The cats are unhappy that I picked up or tossed out all their playthings like empty, ripped-up boxes, shredded things that used to be cat toys, or socks and shirts they would hide under.
Saturday is Sabotage Day- all things concerning cleaning are ignored to go out and have fun. But the gnomes, seeing the house is empty, trash the place while we're out. I think the cats are working for them, so they have more toys.
Sunday is a Day of Rest- or it's supposed to be! I still have to cook and do dishes most of the time, and if my husband cooks, every pot and pan in the house is used and are abandoned in a pile to become fossilized for Monday.

If this is anything like your week, we need to get together for tea and have a chat. But only come on Friday, please. I might find my tea by then. Maybe.

Where Did The Time Go?

I do believe that time continuum that resided on my stairs has now infected me. Why do none of these things ever happen to me in a good way I'll never know, but it did happen, and I think only the geniuses of this world can figure it out. I know I can't!

I'm not sure when it started, but I go to sit down for ten minutes, and it winds up being thirty...a five minute trip downstairs for something becomes an hour, and a one minute phone call turns into a series of them that can last all day.

Where does the time go?

Straight down the toilet, that's where. Or in my case, straight down the Internet. You don't mind talking to your buddy (even if you're busy) as long as your checking your emails while you chat. You can also do Facebook and some research for your next project while having a little lunch- until you find that talking cat video that went viral this morning and you just had to take a look really quick. Hah.

Computer games are just as bad. 'Oh, I'll just play until the next level, since I'm almost there' you tell yourself, but that time continuum takes over and it takes hours just to complete what was supposed to be an easy two minute level- that you had to beat by restarting it 270 times.

The day begins with you running ahead of schedule, and ends in chaos. It's inevitable, and you know it. So do all of your friends on Facebook, because you told them 113 times.

I'm just wondering if it's better to turn off the computer and smash all the clocks and go by the position of the sun instead- first sun is breakfast, high sun is lunch, and dimming sun is dinner- and really, isn't that all we really need to know?

The Difference Between Autumn and Fall

Some call the season after summer Autumn, some call it Fall. But which one is it really? I shall help explain the differences.

Autumn is when the weather turns chilly and brisk.

Fall is what your arms do after changing out all the screens, remove the air conditioners, bleed out the radiators and get the furnace winterized.

Autumn is when the leaves turn all sorts of pretty colors and float to the ground.

Fall is what your legs do because of all the yard work- not only because you're still mowing the lawn, but raking all the leaves that blew from your neighbor's trees into your treeless yard- And tripping over yard tools.

Autumn is a time of apple pies, big meals and lots of company.

Fall is what your body does on the couch after too much baking, cooking, cleaning, and managing drama.

Autumn is beautiful, serene, and peaceful as everything outside settles down for winter.

Fall is when you get to see all that Autumn stuff out of a hospital bed window, because you overdid it- again.

That's the difference, and I'm sticking to it! So, what season it is for you> Autumn, or Fall?