"H8ERS" Gonna Blog
Let me take this opportunity for a good old-fashioned rant. Or two.
First of all: if you've been with me for a while, you know how I feel about "nesting." You know, that overwhelming urge during pregnancy to clean/organize/micromanage every last particle of your household? I've had it before, but it always strikes in the last few weeks before delivery.
Except this time. Because my super-annoying "urge to purge" has already started, and I've still got until the first week of June.
I guess I could look at that as a good thing. I mean, I have plenty of time to drag out every last item from my cluttered kitchen cabinets (which not only includes small appliances like toasters and waffle irons, but bills, coupons, and other paper that has fallen through from the overstuffed drawer above). I've got months to go through my closet (seriously, y'all, it looks like a hoarder has taken up residence in there ... minus the vermin and old food and dead animals, natch). I've got three and a half months to clean the floor between my refrigerator and the wall, and to move my washer and dryer out and scrub underneath them, and do all the other ridiculous things that nesting requires you to do with near-obsessive fervor.
But why? If I clean and organize things now, it's not like anything will stay clean until Corbin is born. And even if it does, it's not like he's going to burst forth from my womb and be all, "Hey mom, thank goodness you straightened up the storage closet underneath the stairs even though I have nothing to do with that area and won't even be allowed to enter it."
And even the people who do use, and contribute to the cluttering of, these areas (coughCurtiscough)? Will likely say nothing short of, "Wow, you cleaned." And then, "Where'd you put the ...?" And then when they locate and use the item they were looking for, they'll likely put it back in the unorganized spot where it was located before, hence foiling my efforts.
Oh yeah - and if you were wondering? We didn't win our local paper's "Cutest Couple" contest. Thanks to everyone who voted, or attempted to vote, in this whacked-out excuse for a competition. An overwhelming number of people reported that they had trouble voting - even Curtis couldn't ever get registered to vote for ourselves. (Lame!)
But you wanna know what the absolute worst part of losing is? It's losing to a very young couple (like, don't-even-look-old-enough-to-drink-their-free-champagne-young), with no kids, who haven't been together for long in the grand scheme of things, who likely have every chance in the world for a damn date night. A couple who, when people on the contest forum were complaining about the voting difficulties, responded with a rude and juvenile diatribe which ended with - and I quote, misspellings and improper punctuation and all - "H8ERS KEEP HATIN because were gonna keep bein cute."
So yeah. Consider me a "H8ER." It's never fun to lose, especially in such a frustrating contest - but I much rather would've lost to a more deserving couple. Like the grandparents who had been together for fifty-plus years ... or another couple with kids, like us, who haven't seen a date night since Bush was in office.
Call me a sore loser if you want, but ... bleh.
Okay, I think I'm done for today. I've got to turn my crankiness to four-year-old clinging to my arm whining something about "Scooby Doooooooooooooo."
... Oh yeah, and clean.