Husband Clothes

Usually my husband gets home late. But now we’ve entered a whole new dimension of “late.” I used to think I knew what “late” meant. Now I’ve discovered that “late” and “early” are actually the same thing! The only difference is when the activity you reference BEGAN.

For example, when I say “5:30 am,” my bet is that most of you are thinking “oh, that’s EARLY.” But I’m thinking “oh, that’s LATE.” Why? Because that’s what time my husband got home from work two nights last week (after going in at 9:00 am).

I am afraid for his health. Well, not to mention mine. Try being 8 months pregnant with two wonderful little boys who make you run up and down the same huge flight of stairs 100 times each day because they are too little to do things like get snacks, drinks, food, and so on. Not to mention the two huge simultaneous projects I’ve just begun. That was dumb–either ONE of them will require full-time work hours. But taking both is my way of insulating us against the possibility of my husband getting laid off as many other people at his company have.

So, my husband is working on the movie “Watchmen.” You see the name, the actors–to me, it doesn’t look all that special. But DANG. Some people obviously think it’s very special because it is for this production that my husband has come home from 1:00 am to 5:30 am (only 2 nights though) over the past month. Maybe more. I’ve lost count.

Some people may say “Holly, it’s time to put your foot down.” But I take a Doormat Stance on this one. That’s an oxymoron that thoroughly explains my viewpoint. My Doormat Stance is: “It’s not time to put my foot down. It’s time for me to hold onto my medical insurance.” So, let him do what he needs to do. If he has a job, I’m happy. Though VERY tired. In summary, I am being a doormat about it, and I am fine with that right now. If the economy were superb, different story.

PS. It’s very important to me that everyone knows that I am not the LEAST bit jealous of the figure on that gal in the Watchmen photo above. Not even in my late stages of pregnancy. I don’t think sarcastic thoughts like “Look at that angular beanpole. Who’d wear a bathing suit with thigh-high leather boots with five inch heels in a FIRE. HA. Shows how smart she is.” I’d never say or think things like this–I’m way too mature.

This entry was posted on Saturday, June 14th, 2008 at 2:42 pm and is filed under Children, Uncategorized, Work. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.