I need to go to bed

But instead here I sit. Staring at this glowing box. Reading boards, blogs and more. I learned a very popular costume this year was Steve Irwin with a stingray barb in his chest. Now, I found that funny. Really funny. I guess many people didn't. I think humor helps people get over things when they hurt, so perhaps that's why I found it so funny. I didn't tell Thomas, though. I also was reading the message boards at Snopes.com and about peed my pants laughing so hard. Seems some college student in Boulder somewhere in time dressed up as a priest and he also had a cabbage patch doll attached to his outfit. To keep this G rated, I won't tell where. But it just struck me funny.

I couldn't come up with a creative, clever or unusual costume if I tried. Thomas desperately wanted to be a chameleon this year. We bought green sheets (no fabric store here) and I just ran out of steam, willpower or desire to attempt it. Actually I had no vision. So he went to a party as a green ghost, and he went trick or treating tonight with a Scream? mask on and a black cape. He was happy. I'm not. I let him down this year.

On my defense, my husband had been out of town for two weeks. I don't do well when he's gone. It's not that I miss him, I usually love it when he travels for a week. Longer than that, I do miss him. It's just that I let our routine get so out of whack that everything is a mess.

This past weekend, while I was worrying about the cat, I went on a rampage through this house. I must have done 20 loads of laundry. I washed anything cloth. All my lace curtains got washed and hung. Pillows, bedding, blankets, drapes, table skirts, rags, clothes -- you name it. So the night DH got home we were going into the bedroom ready to sleep when what do we see on the clean comforter/sheets/mattress pad? Our other cat, who was not sick, had hacked up a huge hairball right on the bed. Pulling the bed apart, it soaked all the way through to the mattress pad. I almost wanted to cry. In fact, I think I did shed a tear. Note to self, buy another mattress pad cover. We stayed up an hour and a half later so I could wash the mattress pad. Used our other sheets.

Well, my husband arrived to a spotless home (except the bed) and he exploded. He always explodes when he gets home. Yes, he's always grumpy, but that's not what I mean. His stuff explodes. His suitcase has been in the living room, in our bedroom, and now is in the hall. His gloves and hat are sitting on my kitchen counter. His glasses are there, too. His plane tickets and receipts he needs for work are laying on another counter. His dirty dishes are stacked in the sink. That man goes through more dishes than anyone I know. His dirty clothes are piled on the bedroom floor. His books -- this man reads two paperbacks in one evening -- are scattered everywhere.

My spotless house from Monday is a complete and utter disaster on Tuesday. See, that's one of the things I like about him travelling. My house stays clean.

I need to go to bed, but instead I sit because I am dreading tomorrow. My kitchen is trashed, although the dishes are done. His books, our school books, a garbage sack full of pumpkin guts, three huge pumpkins -- there's no where to turn. I entered Thomas's room tonight and it is a filthy mess! What happened? It was just so clean. I told him tonight as he got in bed that if we had a fire tonight and a fire fighter had to get in to save him, they'd trip and break their neck. I was just making a lame and crude comment, but I think that scared him. He got up and cleared a path to his bed. I didn't mean to scare him, but if he cleans the room tomorrow, I guess it would have worked.

Now that DH is home there are probably five loads of laundry awaiting. He actually expects me to cook supper -- or at least get food at the store so he can cook it. Sheesh, he just expects so much from me! ;-)

Okay, so when he gets home I get cranky, too. Because it means there's always tons of work for me to do.

I have a gazillion errands to run tomorrow, too.

What is bothering me the most, though, is how are we going to do school with everything such a mess! Thomas has attention problems and I pretty much have to be at the table with him, or at least in the same room. Table works better, though.

It's going to be a sucky day tomorrow. Either school will suffer or the house will. Either way, I will definitely suffer.

Calgon, take me away.