My Routine, or Why I Need Some Time

So, I have been thinking a lot about "my funk" lately. For those of you who are new comers, "my funk" does not, in fact, refer to my body odor (lately, it's been coconuts - found a wonderful organic bar soap at T.arget!), but more of a mood thing. I am beginning to wonder if it's my routine that needs some changing, or if scheduling some ME time could help.

The past week, I have noticed I have been getting upset when I get home from work. I feel that I can attribute this to TWO distinct external reasons.

(REASON ONE)

I usually act mostly normal during the day, then when I get home, the real motivation to be unmotivated kicks in, and I get upset. Not because I have had a horrible day at work (it hasn't been too bad there, actually), or the house is a mess (it's pretty decent most of the time), or the other chores waiting for me when I get there (laundry, cooking, etc.), or money. It's because the Hubs is ALWAYS THERE. He is there when I wake up. He is there when I get home from work. He is ALWAYS AT THE HOUSE. Now, please don't get me wrong, I love him VERY VERY MUCH. And a huge reason our house is pretty clean and I don't worry about a lot of chores is because he gets the opportunity to work from home, and manages to take on these tasks from time to time. And I am very APPRECIATIVE of that. BUT, just as I am getting home from work, and ready to NOT TALK TO ANYONE for a few minutes, he sees me, and uses the chance to TALK and be around me, since he obviously has NOT BEEN AROUND PEOPLE (lucky ass) ALL DAY. Please let me reiterate the fact that I am excited to see him and such, but seriously!

(REASON TWO)

Now, I should also probably mention that my commute from work is very, very short. I think most people get a chance to decompress from their work day during their commute. I am blessed with a VERY short commute, and cursed with all that work mumbo-jumbo going on in my head. It is a 3 mile commute, 6 miles if I take the "long" way. I can usually get to my house with in 5 minutes, 7 in "rush hour" traffic (which, where I live is a big joke. There is no traffic). During this time, every single day, I call my grandmother (who I call Mimi). Now, I am sure you have seen the TV show "E.verybody Lov.es Ra.ymond". My Mimi IS D.oris Ro.berts' character. TO A T. She's a good old Italian grandmother, believes food is love, and is so skilled in the art of guilt, she can really make you do anything. I love Mimi very much, and we are very similar (slightly neurotic, very particular), but, on a daily basis, this 5 to 7 minute phone call is really all I can handle.

Before I tell this story, you have to imagine my grandmother's voice. It is very Long-Islandish. Very nasal. Also, my grandmother has managed to turn an exasperated sigh into actual communication and it is often coupled with intense dissatisfaction. Those of you who know me in real life are probably familiar with my Mimi voice. Those who are related to me will tell you that it's spot on.

I call as I am waiting at the first stoplight, before I get on the highway. This can be anywhere from 5:00pm on the dot to around 6 or 7. I say "Hello", and she responds with a "Hello, Sunshine" or "Hello, Dear". Sometimes, she'll bark "WHO IS THIS" into the telephone, and I get pretty bent out of shape that she (1) doesn't recognize my voice, and (2) FORGETS THAT I CALL AT THE SAME TIME EVERY DAY. Usually, if I call any time after 5:15, I am greeted with "Oh, (SIIIIIIIGH), you're just leaving now?" In that case, the sigh means "I can't believe you have to work outside the home, and you're not at home giving me a herd of great-grandchildren".

We chit-chat for a while about family gossip (it's always something good!), or what she did today at the senior center, or where I am traveling next. There is often some minor disagreement, or a question asked that one party undoubtedly finds absurd ("Do you HAVE to travel for work?"). This results in more sighing, and then inquiring what was unsatisfactory ("Would you prefer I quit my job?"). Guess what? That brings on MORE sighing. You can see where this is going.

After she realizes we have been on the phone for about three minutes, she says, "So, what's for dinner?" This is where I will tell her what is actually planned for dinner, or if the Hubs is taking care of it for the night, or if we haven't decided or are going out. Her response is "SIIIIIIIIIIIGH", no matter what I answer. In this example, the sigh means, "I can't believe you go to work and then you have to prepare dinner for your husband" - dispute the fact that she was a working mother for years, and a single working mother for several more! I know, I know, I don't understand either.

After we discuss dinner, she'll announce to me that I must be nearing home. I am then instructed to "Say hello to Rich...Hubs". Rich is not my husbands name. It's my my great aunts boyfriend's name. But she does it every day, probably because she talks to my great aunt daily too. Then I get my Advice. I get a piece of Advice every day, and it is usually ridiculous. "Be Good," or "Smile," or "She's your cousin and you love her," when gossiping about a certain someone.

So, by the time I get home, I am VERY ready to have a stiff drink, and do some decompressing. You would too. Believe me - in person, Mimi's exasperated sighs are punctuated by WHOLE FIVE COURSE ITALIAN DINNERS. You leave feeling guilty, and full, and even more guilty because you didn't eat as much as she asked you to. It's pretty much a double-edged sword. If I don't call my grandmother, I will feel guilty. When I call my grandmother, I feel guilty!

I was going to close this post with a proper conclusion, but it's 5:30 pm now. I have to go call my grandmother.