Let’s get this out of the way first; you know I’m going to leave this post undone, right?
I’m the first to admit that I’m not a terribly ambitious person. My lovely bride and I purchased our house more than a decade ago and she recently handed me a nostalgic item that spurred the following conversation:
THE WIFE: Hey, Skippy! (Hey, it’s a step up from her first pet name for me, “Boy”.) Recognize this?
ME: Recognize what, my lovely bride?
THE WIFE: Do not call me that.
ME: Your tone is flat and icy. And yet, I’m still turned on…
THE WIFE: Focus, you horny idiot.
ME: Do I have to?
THE WIFE: I have the lawyer on speed dial…
ME: You win.
THE WIFE: Was there ever any doubt?
ME: (Taking the paper from her hand before I wind up living in an apartment complex called “Vista Heights”.) I’d be happy to look this over, my lovely… never mind. I love you.
THE WIFE: (After a moment. Or ten.) Well?
ME: (Not-so-faking ignorance.) This appears to be a list of some sort…
THE WIFE: It’s the “To-Do” list we started when we bought the house. Notice anything unusual?
ME: (Fighting to stay ahead of whatever was coming.) Unusual? No, it appears to be a standard list on thick, yellow paper…
THE WIFE: That paper was WHITE and SOFT when we wrote the list out… THIRTEEN years ago.
ME: So something has obviously tainted this paper. I’m thinking we have a hard water problem in the house…
THE WIFE: Oh, there’s a problem in this house, all right…
ME: And by the way, we didn’t write this list… you did, pretty girl.
(When engaging in a discussion-on-the-verge of-becoming-an-argument with with one’s spouse, it is best to pepper your responses with terms of endearment. They won’t help whatsoever, but the effort is valiant.)
THE WIFE: Pretty girl? Bite me! And off course I wrote it! And I did most of the work too! I laid the floors. I put the moulding on. I painted the living room, the dining room, the bathroom…
At that point I should have said something like, “I get it, honey. I’m so sorry I haven’t pulled my weight around here. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
But you know I didn’t, right?
ME: If you’ve done most of the work then why the hell did you drag out this list?
My wife began to vibrate, it was barely noticeable at first, then it really showed. After that, well, let’s just say I still have one of my testicles still hasn’t descended and leave it at that, shall we?
So what have we learned from this little tale of marital relations? (No, not those marital relations.)
ONE) My wife has a Kung fu grip G.I. Joe would be envious of. (But not always in a good way.)
TWO) I have trouble finishing what I start – assuming I start it at all.
And I’m sure you can relate, correct? (To the second point, I mean, not my wife’s kung fu grip.) The truth is, we all struggle to overcome apathy. (Seriously, I started this post before I left the womb.) Actually, I have that wrong, don’t I? If we all struggled to overcome apathy we’d be a planet of Sheens. Charlie, not, Martin.
But we don’t.
Most of us just let apathy wash over us like summer rain. On the surface it seems refreshing – and then we start to sneeze. Before you know it, you’re coughing up mucus that’s thicker than Trump’s weave, your brain is on fire with fever and you’re making deals with a deity you normally don’t believe in.
But maybe that’s just me.
At any rate, I’ve finished this post now, so that’s something to be proud of, right?
See you in the lobby – and Home Depot – kids…