The fever hit me as soon as I slid my ballot through the scanner-thingy. I had CNN up on my computer all day, frustrated as heck that they didn't give updates every 30 seconds. (But I only want them available to people who have already voted, so they are not unduly influenced.)
The second I got home from work I turned the TV on and got CNN on my computer. And watched every electoral vote post. The anticipation reminded me of a very important football game. (Stop rolling your eyes at me!) Took a 45 minute break to watch Heroes.
When I got out of the shower, I went to check CNN. The electoral count was over 270 but the headlines were old. Refreshed the web page and it was over. Wow!
I called to the husband in another room. "It's over!" He laughed at me. I had to tell him that I was serious and it was really over. I felt... relief.
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Warning -- husband vent coming
A couple of days ago, the husband said, "I spent 2 hours looking for a job today. Substitute teaching only pays $70 a day! I am not working for 10 bucks an hour. I have my master's degree!"
(Note - the school district pays more for a master's degree if you take a permanent position. But not for day to day subbing. Then again, you do not need a bachelor's degree to sub in this state, just 60 college credit hours.)
The night before last the husband asks - "Are you alright?"
(I have hit that wonderful portion of the month where my head spins around and I spew venom on anyone around me. For a couple days a month I have the urge to through something very breakable at a wall.)
I respond that I am in that lovely irrational mood where I want to break something or someone.
This is a regularly scheduled event. For a few days, I am a nasty, short-tempered, irrational, evil bitch. I give warning, it seems only fair. Every month.
But, as usual, he comes and stands over me, asking me over and over what is wrong, did he do something, am I mad at him. And as much as it kills me I have to say outloud, "It's PMS." To which I get the look of, 'oh, is that all?' La la la la la, he skips off on his merry oblivious way.
(Any other male would catch the irrational-bitch-PMS-break someone words and pretty much just stay out of the way. Not in my house.)
Vent over. Happy Wednesday, beginning of a new era day!
3 comments:
Yeah, PMS=Danger around these parts too, but I still ask repeatedly too. We menfolk just ain't that bright.
Put a calendar in his stocking and preschedule the event for him!!!
Put it on his iCalendar. And then sit around and gloat that you got a black man to the presidency, and your husband to be aware of your cycle. :)
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